WHISKY TANGO FOXTROT
by Neuropsych
Summary: The Avengers have a small problem. His name is Peter
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Okay! New story! This premise has been done a million times, I'm sure – although I admit I've never read it. (I have plenty of free time but with as much updating as I do, I don't have time to do a lot of reading of other fics) but it hasn't happened in my AU, so we get to play with it, too. I had a bit of help figuring out how I wanted to do this – some from my poor mother who isn't even an Avengers fan, she just is forced to listen to me prattle on about this storyline and the people involved. I think by now she actually does like it, a little, or she wouldn't engage with me about the stories – but she won't admit it. Also thank you to my friend Farah who allows me to bounce ideas off her – and comes up with some good ones, as well. Review and let me know what you think – or if you're shy, send a PM. That said, here we go!_

OOOOOOO

**WHISKY TANGO FOXTROT**

The sanctum wasn't, _technically_, alive. Peter knew that. He'd been in it a number of times, and by then had explored it pretty much top to bottom – except for the room that held the Time stone. It always seemed to welcome him, though, with a humming in his mind that was similar to the one the Cloak of Levitation emitted when it was at it's most content. Only much more powerful, and never-ending.

Which was why he always seemed to feel warm when he visited.

It wasn't new, though, and the fever wasn't dangerous. It was just there and was a part of him that he accepted. Like the fact that anytime he went to the sanctum to visit, there was a fair chance he was going to be immediately engulfed by the cloak as soon as he crossed the threshold. It was always happy to see him, and was a willing companion to the boy whenever he walked around the place looking for anything new – or to find something that he might not have noticed in one of his previous visits.

Which happened all the time.

Wong was constantly bringing relics – old and new, earthly or alien – from the other sanctums to study, and occasionally for Peter to look at to see if he could discern anything new from them that centuries of study hadn't. He liked that, too.

He wasn't there for that today, though. He was just visiting after school to talk about Tony's upcoming bachelor party. It wasn't for a while, yet, but since Strange was a meticulous person who loved details, and Peter was going to be one of the few minors attending, the sorcerer supreme wanted to make sure he had some input from the boy. The party needed to be fun for all ages – even though he definitely intended for there to be adult refreshments – and perhaps some entertainment. Nothing too extreme, though, since not only would Pepper not approve, but neither would _Natasha_, and that wasn't a conversation that Stephen Strange wanted to have.

When Peter had arrived, both Strange and Wong were in the upstairs library. They were talking about a couple of new relics that Strange had brought in from the sanctum in China that Wong had been interested in studying. Not that the Chinese sanctum guardians didn't know how to study their own artifacts, but Wong was well respected – even among the other sorcerers – as a scholar, and they knew that the learning was more important than ego in most cases.

"We won't be long, Peter," Strange had told him when he'd arrived at the door, walking from the bus stop.

He could have teleported himself in, but he didn't mind taking the bus, since it was a good way to people watch, and Peter loved to people watch.

"No problem," he'd said, meaning it.

With the cloak wrapped around his shoulders and loving up on him, mentally as well as physically, he wandered to the far side of the library, looking at some of the display cases and some items that were simply on shelves. There were a few that he didn't recognize, even though this wasn't the area that the two men stored anything new, and he stopped to look at a chalice that glittered with a dull reflection of some lights from the lights in the library.

It made his spider senses tingle, gently, and he realized that some of the humming he was feeling in his mind wasn't the cloak or the sanctum, it might be coming from the chalice, as well. It wasn't evil, he knew, immediately, but he couldn't feel that it was really all that good, either. It just _was_. But it was alluring, as if the humming in his head was promising to give him everything that he could ever wish for.

Peter was able to ignore the subtle coaxing that he felt. For one thing, the cloak kept him somewhat distracted with its attentions and for another, as far as Peter was concerned, he _had_ everything that he could wish for, really.

He turned his attention to a book that was next to the chalice. This one he knew – even though he'd never picked it up, since it pretty much exuded evil intent and malice and he had no desire to get too close. He did wonder at the animosity that seemed to be coming from both of the relics – and another that was stored on a lower shelf below them. Another evil-seeming item that was simply a pendant-shaped piece of what looked like onyx.

"Were these _always_ here?" Peter asked the cloak, well aware that it knew pretty much everything that went on in the sanctum library.

It was its _home_, after all, and the thing probably didn't have a lot to do during the day when no one needed it for help or to cuddle.

The ancient cloak gave him a purely mental no, and what felt like concern – although it couldn't speak to him in actual words, even in his mind, so Peter wasn't sure what it was worried about. The build up from the three items so angry with each other and from being so close together was starting to really make Peter's head ache.

"Is this normal?"

Again a definite no from the cloak and a tug that told him they should probably move out of the vicinity – which Peter agreed with, completely. An angry roar filled his mind as he turned, and a corner of the cloak swung out to slap the book aside as the relic somehow threw itself at the two other objects, but came perilously close to hitting Peter.

There was an explosion – both mental and physical – as the four items; cloak, book, pendant and chalice all connected with each other. He felt the cloak wrap itself tightly around him, felt the Mind stone suddenly overwhelm him and then was thrown backward, cloak and all, and everything went black around him before he even hit the highly polished wooden floor.

OOOOO

"So where are you going to put these for now?" Strange asked Wong, looking at the items on the table and briefly glancing over the direction Peter had wandered, just checking on the boy – as he usually did.

Peter was smart enough not to touch anything without permission, and he had the _cloak_, of course, but when he was in the sanctum, the doctor liked to keep track of him. Just in case.

"I moved the book of Griben over to the back of the room and put the Vulcanized pendant on a shelf under it. That way I could leave these where I can have Peter take a look at them in the next lot of artifacts I want to have him try to figure out for me."

"That makes sense. We can have Tony-"

A blast – physical in nature but laced with a magical undertone that was so powerful both sorcerers felt it from the other side of the room suddenly shuddered the entire library, forcing Strange to grab the table to keep from falling.

Wong was already moving, well aware who was in that area.

"_Peter!?"_

Both men rushed over to the far corner of the library, and stopped at the sound of a sudden wail. A cry that was coming from something moving under the Cloak of Levitation, which was on the floor in the middle of an aisle made by several display cases – many of which now sported shattered glass. It was tightly wrapped up around something that was much too small to be Peter, but was moving and was definitely the source of the crying they both heard – unless the cloak had suddenly developed speech after untold millennia.

"What…?"

Strange stepped forward, while Wong moved his hands to form shields to protect both of them in case it was a trick. It wouldn't be the first time, after all.

"What is it?" Wong asked, once he was sure he was ready.

"I don't-" the cloak suddenly moved, just a little, and Strange frowned. "What the _hell_?"

Sitting in the middle of the heavy cloth and a pile of clothing that was much too large to belong to him, screaming displeasure and fear, was a toddler.

"Oh, _no_…"


	2. Chapter 2

"This can't be happening," Strange said, stepping forward to look down at the child, his shoes crunching on the broken glass.

"Is he _injured_?" Wong asked, his hands still up in a defensive pattern, watching for some kind of ambush.

The child realized he wasn't alone, suddenly, and the cries strengthened, his hands coming up in an unmistakable demand to be picked up. Watching for broken glass – which was everywhere – the doctor did just that. The over-sized clothing slipped off the little body as he did so, and he found himself holding a naked toddler.

The wailing stopped at the initial contact, and liquid brown eyes looked back at Strange. There was the tiniest of cuts on the little face, other than that, as near as Strange could tell he was fine.

"He doesn't seem to be."

Wong's hands came down since nothing seemed to be threatening them. The cloak shook itself free of the shards of broken glass and hovered close at hand, its attention centered on the child, while Wong stepped forward as well.

"That can't _really_ be Peter," the sorcerer said.

"_It_ looks like him," Strange replied, examining the little body as best as he could while still holding him. "I mean, if Peter were a _child_, that is."

"We don't have anything here that could do something like this."

Which wasn't necessarily true, and they both knew it. The sanctum was filled with objects that had powers they hadn't comprehended, yet.

The boy in Strange's arms whimpered, again, and the doctor shushed him, gently, running a hand along his back to settle him. Children weren't his forte and he wasn't comfortable with them by any stretch of the imagination, but he _had_ done a pediatrics rotation, so he could fake it – for the moment. Besides, if this was really _Peter_, he didn't want to fake it.

"Let's get him into some light."

Wong looked back at the area, which had a few relics on the floor and several others displaced from their normal places on the shelves or the display cases. He waved a hand and the glass was gone, with new glass in the displays. The relics he left where they were, making sure none were touching before he followed Strange to one of the large tables that dominated the library.

"What do you think happened?" he asked as Strange set the child down on the table top – which elicited another scream as the little hands clasped the shirt the doctor was wearing and held tight, clearly not wanting to be let go.

A thick towel appeared on the table, but the boy had a death grip on him, and Stephen wasn't going to be able to get free of him. He was a lot stronger than someone that age should be.

"I don't know." Strange looked at the cloak. "Did he touch something?"

The cloak hit his shoulder twice – a sign for a negative reply. It was a simple system and only good for mainly yes and no questions, but it was all that they had just then. If the child could speak, he wasn't saying anything just then. He was simply clinging to Strange and whimpering.

"Is this really Peter?" Wong asked the cloak.

This time the response was a yes, and the sorcerers both made soft whistling noises in reply.

"No way…" Strange said, pulling back from the embrace to get a better look at the boy.

Brown hair with a little bit of a wave to it, soft features so common in a child that age and, when he pulled a little further away – as much as the sturdy grip would allow – he saw the four lines along the boy's ribcage. Tiny, but a perfect representation of the scars from the attack by the bear during their camping trip so long ago.

"What do we do?" Wong asked.

"We try to figure out what happened – and how to reverse whatever it was."

"There are several relics on the floor. It could have been some kind of reaction – if they managed to touch each other. But it'll take time to research that."

"Yes. I'm aware…" Strange leaned over, still holding the boy, and set the bare bottom on the towel, even though the hands were still clinging to him, tightly. "The question, though… is Peter in there? Or was his mind regressed to that of a child when this happened?"

Wong frowned, looking at the child.

"Peter?"

The boy looked over at him – it _had_ to be Peter, it was just too uncanny a resemblance. They had both seen the video made by Peter's parents, and if this wasn't the boy in the videos, it was his doppelganger. The little lower lip quivered and both men watched in silence as the child's eyes filled with tears once more. He wasn't hurt, obviously, but he was _scared_, Strange realized, as he picked him up into his arms, once more.

And probably _cold_, come to think of it.

A moment later the little body was once more dressed. This time in an outfit more designed for the size of the wearer. Pull-up diaper – just in case that was needed – little blue jeans and a t-shirt with a green hooded sweatshirt over it.

"What are you going to do?" Wong asked and the boy buried his face against the doctor and cried quietly into his shirt.

"I'm going to take him home," Strange replied. "And try to explain to Tony what happened."

"You don't _know_ what happened."

"Which is going to make it difficult," he conceded.

"Natasha is going to _kill_ you."

"Yes. I know." He looked at the boy in his arms, and shook his head. "We'll figure it out."

"Time stone? We could always age him back to sixteen that way."

"It would kill him before we made it very far," Strange reminded him. "It hurt Peter at sixteen, and it wasn't even being directed at him. I can't even imagine how badly it would hurt someone… what? _Two_? Three?"

Wong shrugged.

"Probably. Stark would be a better choice to try and calm him. Then he can see if it's Peter in the little body, or if that's something we have to figure out, as well."

"Yes. I'll be back to help you as soon as I can. Work with the cloak and see if you can figure out what happened."

Easier said than done with yes and no questions, but they had to start somewhere.

"Alright."

The cloak clearly hesitated, obviously wanting to stay with Peter and Strange, but seemingly aware that its help was needed at the sanctum, as well. Juggling the child in his arms and trying to reach his watch, Stephen finally triggered the communications device and a moment later received a response.

"_Good afternoon, Doctor Strange,"_ Tony's voice answered, cheerfully. "_How's my favorite magician? Anything interesting going on?"_

Wong rolled his eyes, immensely relieved that he wasn't in the doctor's shoes just then, and the boy pulled his face from Strange's shirt at the sound of Stark's voice, looking around, his eyes wet and his face smeared with tears and snot.

"Yes, Tony. We've got a bit of a… situation," the doctor replied, taking a warm, wet cloth from Wong and wiping the boy's face, carefully. "Where are you?"

"_In my workroom."_ Stark's voice went from teasing to serious_. "Anyone bleeding?"_

Strange looked at the child who was now looking up at him with a little more composure. The cut wasn't bleeding – at the worst, it had had a tiny drop of blood. Nothing life-threatening.

"No. But I need to talk to you. I'll be right there."

The connection ended and Wong shook his head.

"Good luck."

Strange nodded, tightening his hold on the child.

"Yes."

A moment later, he and Peter were gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony was exactly where he said he'd be when Strange arrived at the compound. Rather than pop in too close to someone in a room known to be occupied and startle or maybe hurt them, the sorcerer used a small room off to the side for his entrance. He looked down at the child in his arms, but if Peter was surprised or startled by the sudden transfer to a completely different place, it didn't show. He had his cheek against the doctor's chest and was holding his shirt with that same implacable grip.

Stark was leaning against his work table, watching for him when Stephen carried the boy into the room, and didn't even try to hide his surprise at seeing Strange's burden. He stood up a little, though, and smiled.

"Found yourself a new apprentice, Stephen?"

"No…"

Peter's head came up at the first word and he looked over at Stark, suddenly pushing himself away from Strange and reaching for Tony with both arms. It was all Strange could do to keep from dropping the suddenly wriggly boy, and Tony reached for him automatically to keep from letting him fall. Immediately, the tiny face was buried in Stark's shirt, his hand coming up to touch the chin he was tucked under.

Tony frowned.

"Does _Natasha_ know about your friend here?" he asked.

Strange didn't smile.

"We had an incident, Tony. At the _sanctum_."

Stark looked worried, suddenly.

"Is Peter alright?"

There really wasn't any way to cushion the blow, Strange knew. He gestured to the boy Tony was holding.

"_That's_ Peter."

"What?" Tony looked down at the boy, who looked up at him, brown eyes wide and still touching the bearded chin of the man holding him. "This is a little kid, Stephen."

"Yes, I'm aware. Wong's already trying to ascertain what happened. It… there was an explosion. We came running and found him, wrapped in the cloak and covered in glass. It has to have been one, or more, of-"

"Wait," Tony cut him off, looking from the child to Strange. "You're _serious_?"

He was waiting for a punchline, but there certainly didn't seem to be one coming.

"Yes."

"This is _Peter_?"

"Yes. Don't panic, all right? We'll figure out what-"

"Don't _panic_?" Stark repeated, his voice rising to an octave that was several higher than his norm. "Are you _kidding_ me? What am I _supposed_ to do? He's-"

The lower lip of the child trembled, then quivered, and the brown eyes were suddenly bright with unshed tears, either from the tone in Stark's voice or because of fear, the billionaire didn't know. He trailed off, brushing his hand through the child's hair, instinctively aware of an imminent breakdown – even though he had no experience with children.

"Gently, Tony," Strange cautioned, softly. "He's had a rough time of things…"

The boy's eyes overflowed, tears running down his cheeks and Tony cradled him against his chest, tucking the entire body under his chin and murmuring soothing words – all the while looking at Strange.

"He's a baby…"

"_Toddler_, I think, would be the technical term," the doctor corrected, automatically. "Like I was saying, don't panic, okay? We know the section of the library that it happened in, and we know the relics and artifacts that were there. It's just a matter of us figuring out the chain of events and then reversing them."

"How are you going to do that?" Tony, careful to keep his voice calm. "Did you see it happen?"

"No. It was Peter and the cloak."

"Well, _that's_ helpful."

He didn't even bother to hide the sarcasm.

"The cloak can help. Peter cannot, though. I thought we should get him back here, and out from underfoot until Wong and I can find the solution."

"He didn't come across the time stone, though, right?" Stark asked. "It didn't make him a baby?"

"No. And for obvious reasons we can't use it on him to reverse the process. Not only would it probably kill him, but at the moment, we're not sure what we're working with."

"Meaning?"

"Is sixteen-year-old Peter stuck in the little body you're holding, and still aware of everything that happened? Or is his mind the mind of the child? I couldn't get him calm enough to ask any kind of question that might let us know. He obviously recognizes you, and he recognized me, so that means whatever happened, it didn't revert him to his 2-year-old self, or he'd be freaking out about being with strangers instead of his biological parents, right?"

"Right." Stark hadn't thought of that. "So, what do I do?"

"Take care of him, and give us a chance to figure it out."

"How long is that going to take?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'll be back as soon as I have anything to tell you."

Strange left, then, and Tony looked around the room for a moment, and then looked down at the child he was holding. As if aware he was being scrutinized, Peter lifted his head and looked up at him. Stark's expression softened, and his smile was filled with love. Despite how incredibly impossible it was, he knew this was Peter.

"You think _you're_ having a rough day?" he crooned to the boy, who smiled at the gentle tone. A smile that Tony recognized immediately. "_I_ have to tell Pepper what happened."

And everyone else who would need to know, of course.

OOOOOOO

He took him to the lounge. Not only was it filled with comfortable chairs and couches, but it was one of the places that they spent the most time. And that was where Friday told him Natasha and Steve were. There was a stir when he entered the room – which was mostly empty, and Steve and Natasha both looked over at him from the table they were sitting at, two tablets in hand while they worked on some scheduling.

Romanoff smiled, confused.

"Where did you find him?" she asked, standing up when he walked over with the boy still clinging to him.

"Oh, it's a long story, Agent Romanoff," Tony replied, shaking his head.

Peter turned to look at her, and she frowned, reaching for the boy automatically. Tony was a bit surprised that he transferred over without any fuss, and Natasha looked over at Stark.

"Why did something in my head just go crazy and tell me this is Peter?"

"Because it's _Peter_," Tony confirmed, watching as she looked down at the child, who was looking up at her with an unreadable expression.

"What?" Steve looked at the boy and then at Stark. "I thought he was at the sanctum with Strange…"

Tony nodded and sat down and explained to them everything that had been explained to him by Stephen – which didn't take long. Natasha was still holding Peter, but she'd put him on her lap, still facing her so she could study him while Stark spoke to them.

"They're trying to figure it out," he told them. "Until they do, though, we need to keep our cool and get Peter through this."

"Are we sure it's Peter and not some _trick_?" Rogers asked. "Maybe Loki's up to something?"

"No," Natasha said, confidently. "Loki's out of our hair. It's not a trick."

"Huh." Steve smiled as the boy played with a lock of her hair, putting it in his mouth and then tugging on it, ignoring the fuss he was causing in favor of his favorite Avenger. "He's kind of cute, though. Isn't he?"

"He's _adorable_," Romanoff corrected. She smiled, though, and pulled away just a little when the toddler put his hand on her breast, with his mouth following. "And maybe a little _hungry_, Tony?"

Stark's smile was amused.

"Or he's just taking advantage of the situation…"

They were going to need to get some supplies, though, obviously.


	4. Chapter 4

Clint Barton walked into the lounge and headed straight for the table Natasha was seated at with Steve and Tony. He didn't look at any of _them_, though; his attention was on the little boy who was now sitting in Tony's lap, a hotdog in one hand and a cracker in the other. Both were gnawed on and soggy, with most of the cracker now in Tony's lap as well, and plenty of somewhat chewed up hotdog smeared against the front of Stark's shirt and on his pants – and of course, all over the boy.

"That's really _Peter_?" he asked, sitting down in the empty chair and studying the child, intently.

Peter looked back at him, eyes solemn, expression a little weary.

"Yes," Natasha said, looking up from the list she was making. "Weird, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Barton smiled – which made Peter smile. "He's pretty cute, though."

"Pretty _messy_, is more like it," Stark said.

"Get used to it," Clint said, shaking his head. He looked at Natasha's paper. "What are you writing?"

"Things we need for him."

Clint took the list and studied it, frowning.

"Diapers? Bottles? Wipes?" he looked at Peter again and then back at them. "He's what? Two? Three?"

"Yeah. We'd guess somewhere around there," Steve agreed.

"Then he doesn't need bottles. Get him sippy cups. And washcloths are fine; he doesn't need wipes. Or diapers. If he isn't potty trained, yet, use pull up diapers so that he doesn't feel like a baby. The kid is already shoved into a tiny little body; let him keep whatever dignity you can."

"You're sure he doesn't need bottles?" Stark asked, unconvinced. "He went for Natasha's girls like they were no one's business."

"Because he's a _boy_," Clint assured him. "It's hardwired into us. My oldest latched onto a mannequin at the mall one time and screamed when we pulled him off of it. And he was five. No boobs will be safe around here, for a while. It's what we _do_. Right Peter?" he asked, nodding to the child.

Which made Peter nod, too.

"Huh." Stark didn't argue. "Anything we're missing?"

Clint looked at the list, again.

"You need a lot more clothing, believe me. And pajamas, shoes – a toddler sized bed, unless you plan to leave him to himself in his quarters?"

Tony shook his head.

"I hadn't thought of that."

For some reason, he was assuming that Strange and Wong were going to have the solution that day. If it went more than that, then Clint was right, and they were going to need something for Peter to sleep in. And on.

"Are you going to go shopping?" Barton asked, leaning over and swapping out the soggy cracker in the child's hand for a fresh one and tossing the soggy one onto the plate that held the other hotdog.

Natasha shook her head.

"Not exactly. We're going to email the list to Stephen – or text it to him – and have him bring it to us, here."

"You might keep Peter in one of the spare rooms off of your quarters," Clint suggested to Tony. "Turn it into a day room or something so he has a place to go that's his."

"And he needs a playroom," Steve added.

"Just throw a few toys in the day room. He'll probably only play with the boxes they come in, anyway – if my kids are any way to judge."

Well aware that he was the residential expert when it came to kids – since he had three more of them than all of the others combined – Natasha had been writing what he was suggesting. Then she took a picture with her phone and looked at Tony.

"Where should I tell him to put it?"

"The same room that he came out of earlier. We can move it from there. Thanks."

His watch chimed to get his attention, and he frowned, looking down at himself.

"Pepper's half an hour out. I'd better get the two of us cleaned up before we go to meet her."

"Does she know?" Clint asked, curiously.

"She does not."

Clint held his arms out to Peter, who went to him willingly, still clutching the hotdog and cracker.

"I'd like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. Someone get me a wet washcloth."

He looked at Peter and lifted his arms. The toddler echoed the motion and lifted his arms, too, and Barton pulled the sweatshirt off in an easy motion, purposely tangling the boy's head in the hoodie and tickling his ears, which made him giggle and everyone watching smile. Steve handed him a washcloth that he'd mooched from the bartender and with a few competent passes, the boy's face and hands were clean.

It took Tony a little longer, but eventually _he_ was clean, too. Mostly.

"Thanks, Clint," Stark said, scooping Peter up into his arms, once more, and feeling a little mushy inside when the little face pressed against his neck. "Wish me luck, everyone."

"Good luck."

OOOOOO

"So, what do we know so far?" Strange asked, with a somewhat defeated sigh.

He leaned back in the chair he was in and rubbed his face – even though they hadn't been researching all that long. It was the enormous task in front of them was so daunting.

"We can narrow it down to five or six items – or a combination of them, from what we got from the cloak," Wong replied. He had several books out in front of him where they could both see them. "We don't know all of the relics, but from descriptions of the ones that we do know, none of them should be able to do anything like what happened to Peter."

"Which means we should look at the ones that we're not sure of, first, and work from there," Strange said.

"Right."

They were interrupted by the doctor's phone. He picked it up, and stood up.

"Natasha's requesting we stock them with some essentials to take care of Peter. Interested in taking a break and helping me gather them up and sending them over to the compound?"

"Sure."

A wave of his hand made the list on his phone appear in midair.

"That's a _lot_ of essentials," Wong commented, looking over the items.

Strange just shrugged.

"It's easier than taking a toddler out shopping, I imagine."

Anything to make things easier on the Avengers – especially Tony and Pepper – was something that they'd be willing to do.

"I'll summon everything from t-shirts on down," Wong offered. "Where are we putting them?"

Strange made a circle with his hands and a portal opened, leading to the room off of the workroom he'd arrived in earlier that day.

"We'll put them there. They can decide where to take it after that."

OOOOOOO

They were in the garage, leaning against Peter's Pontiac while waiting for Pepper to arrive. _Tony_ was leaning against the Pontiac; Peter was perched up on the hood of the car, with Stark holding him in place to keep him from sliding down the freshly waxed automobile.

"Mommy's going to be a little freaked out," Tony told Peter, risking letting one hand go long enough to brush the soft curls back from the little forehead. "So you have to be _extra_ cute, okay?"

Peter nodded, but didn't say anything, and Stark wondered – not for the first time – if the boy was shocked and unwilling to speak, of if he was younger than they thought and wasn't yet _able_ to speak. He wasn't mute; they'd heard him make noises and giggle and he'd heard him cry, but he hadn't said a word to any of them, yet. There was no doubt that he understood what they said to him.

He met the frank, brown eyes and picked the child up, cuddling him close and pressing a kiss against the top of his head before tucking him under his chin, protectively.

"Don't worry, Peter. We'll get you figured out."

There wasn't a reply, but the garage door opened, then, and Pepper smiled when she saw him waiting. Even through the windshield, though, Stark could see the confusion in her expression when she saw the boy in his arms. She pulled the car up beside the Pontiac and turned off the engine, and Tony reached over and opened the door for her.

Pepper didn't try to hand him her bag like she normally would, assuming correctly that he needed both hands for what he was doing.

"Hi…" she said, curiously, getting out of the car.

"Hey, Pep…"

He'd sort of planned in his head what he was going to say. How he was going to explain it. She was smart, and amazing, and despite the craziness of the situation, he was almost certain that she wouldn't faint, or scream, or get angry. He started to open his mouth, to deliver the practiced speech, when Peter suddenly squirmed in his arms, reaching for her with both hands.

"_Momma!"_


	5. Chapter 5

If she was confused before, Pepper was downright baffled now, as she automatically reached for the toddler who was so adamantly demanding her touch. He practically fell from Tony's arms into hers, and then clung to her tightly, his face in her neck, his shallow, excited breaths warming and dampening her skin.

"What's going on, Tony?" she asked, listening to soft murmurs _of momma, momma, momma_ against her neck.

"We have a bit of a situation, Pepper," he said, reaching for her bag, now, since her hands were full, and closing the car door.

"I figured that out on my own," she pointed out.

If it were many, many years ago, she might have immediately thought that the boy in her arms was the result of an illicit tryst on Tony's part, and his next words were going to be something about a paternity lawsuit. It wasn't, though, and she trusted him – and besides, the child was in _her_ arms, clearly excited by her presence.

She'd never had the problem, before, but she was sure that wasn't how it would be playing out if that were the case.

"Something happened at the sanctum today," Tony said, moving towards the entrance to the garage. "We're not sure _what_, exactly – Stephen and Wong are working on it."

"Peter was going there, today," she mused. "After school. Where is he? Still there?"

The child in her arms lifted his head from her neck and pushed away just enough to look up at her. Pepper almost missed a step at the look of adoration he gave her; his brown eyes fixed on her, his hand playing absently with the necklace she was wearing. He seemed so familiar to her, like she'd seen him somewhere before, but she didn't deal with children on a consistent basis, so it must have been her imagination.

"No." Like Strange before him, Tony knew there was no easy way to drop this bomb. So he stopped in the corridor, waited for her to stop, as well, and just blurted it out. "_That's_ Peter."

She frowned, waiting for him to continue – for the punchline, or the sarcastic quip that had to be following. He didn't say anything, though. He just watched her and waited.

"I don't understand."

"Stephen said that there was an explosion or something in the sanctum. Whatever it was, Peter and the cloak got caught up in it and it made him young."

"How young?"

Stark gestured to the toddler she was holding.

"_That_ young."

"What?"

She looked back down at the youngster, who had released her necklace, now, and was somewhat upside down in her grasp, looking up at her, and then over at Tony, his little hand clinging tightly to her shirt to keep from falling.

"_Momma…"_

"That's Peter, sweetheart. Stephen and Wong are working on getting it figured out, but until they do, we-"

"This is _Peter_?" she repeated.

"Yes."

"Peter Parker?"

"Yeah, Pep."

"I don't…" she refreshed her grip on the boy, who was now dangling precariously in her arms, clearly enjoying being upside down with the blood rushing to his head, completely oblivious to her confusion. "How…? What?"

"I know it's a lot to take in," Tony said, understandably concerned that she was going to drop the wriggling child and reaching for him.

Peter pulled away, holding fast to Pepper.

_"No!"_

"A lot to take…" she trailed off, her hands going to the child's armpits so she could get a better hold on him and pull him upright into her arms, again. "Yes, it's a _lot_ to take in. Are you-"

A little hand pressed against her lips cut off whatever she'd been about to say, and the brown eyes that were watching her so intently seemed suddenly so familiar that her expression softened, and she ran a hand through the boy's hair.

"It's _really_ Peter?"

"Yeah, Pep. It's him."

"What do we do?" she asked, hugging the boy, suddenly, tucking him under her chin until he squirmed to be free and threw himself backward in her grasp to once more hang upside down, watching Tony, cheerfully, his t-shirt falling and exposing a belly button that Stark couldn't help but poke – which elicited a happy giggle.

"We wait for Stephen and Wong to figure out how to get him back to where he's supposed to be, and take care of him until then."

They started walking, again, and Pepper gave up on keeping Peter upright, taking a firm hold on his leg just in case he fell off the arm planted firmly under his rear.

"Is it…?" she looked down at the boy "Is Peter in there, though? Is he sixteen in a toddler body? Or is that hidden away, somewhere?"

"We don't know, yet." Tony went on to explain what Strange had told him, and the problems that they were facing when trying to solve this dilemma. By the time they'd reached their quarters, Pepper knew everything that Stark did. "So, we just need to wait it out. Keep him as comfortable as we can – enjoy the fact that we can carry him around, I suppose."

She nodded.

"You should have told me, earlier," she chided as they crossed their quarters and entered the bedroom. "I could have stopped to get some things for him."

"Stephen and Wong are delivering stuff up the easy way," Tony assured her, waving his fingers so she'd know that he meant by magic. "Get changed into something more comfortable, and we'll see what we have to work with – and if there's anything we need that they didn't get."

"Right."

Of course, getting changed meant transferring Peter to Tony, though, and the child wasn't willing to release his hold on her. When Tony held his arms out to the boy, Peter turned his head away with a resounding no, and buried his face against Pepper's neck once more.

"At least he's speaking," Stark said, with a smile, taking hold of Peter's torso in gentle hand and pulling on him. "Come on, Peter. Mommy needs to get changed and she can't do that with her arms full."

"_No!"_

He grasped her shirt, tightly, but there weren't any screams or tears, and Pepper decided that it was more of a game to the boy than any real desire to cling to her. She smiled at Tony, leaving it up to him to figure out how to solve this one.

Stark was up to the challenge.

"I'll buy you an ice cream."

Peter turned his head, interested. Pepper just rolled her eyes.

"_Bribery_? Really, Tony?"

"Whatever works, dear," Stark told her, reaching out his arms to the boy, who transferred over without any fuss, and tucked his head under Tony's chin, his hand reaching up, automatically, to touch the facial hair that was right above him, even though he was still watching Pepper.

The motion was the final proof for her, who had seen the action several times – and now remembered why the baby had looked so familiar to her, earlier. She'd seen him in the video made by his parents so many years before. And had seen that same gesture, then, too.

"Do we _have_ any ice cream?" she asked as she went to find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, deciding that she didn't feel like wearing anything fancier than that, just then.

"We'll go find some. When we're done looking at the stuff we have for him."

"He doesn't have ice cream until after he eats dinner, though," Pepper said, firmly.

Tony smiled down at the boy, who had abandoned his chin and was once more hanging himself upside down.

"She's tough, huh, Peter?"

_"Ice cream!"_

Close enough.


	6. Chapter 6

"Clint suggested that we make Peter a bedroom – he called it a _dayroom_ – of his own near our quarters," Tony said, still holding the boy while Pepper finished dressing and sat down on the bed to put some sensible shoes on.

"We don't want to leave him to his own devices in his current rooms," she pointed out, unable to stop looking at the child, who was now half-dozing in Tony's arms. "A _teen_, yes. A toddler? That'd be a _disaster_."

"I agree."

They went out into the living area of their rooms and looked around. Tony had a mini work area off to one side, and Pepper had an office area, but neither would suffice for their needs. There were several empty rooms nearby, but both of them wanted something that would give them immediate access to the child if he needed them.

"I'm not sure, Tony," Pepper said. "No place looks like it would work for what we need."

"Behind the bar?"

She smiled.

"No." She walked back into their bedroom. "Why not one of the closets?"

They both had walk in closets, and to say that they were fairly large would be an understatement. Both were self-proclaimed clotheshorses and had the wardrobe to match. Stark nodded, looking first into hers and then into his.

"Mine would work better…"

It had less shelves – he had less shoes and accessories than she did – and a bit more floor space due to that fact. The shelves could hold baby accessories, and there was plenty of room for a toddler bed, a dresser and a few toys – and there would still be room on the floor to play.

"We'll put your clothes in with mine," she agreed.

"Then they'll smell girly."

"Then we'll put them in the _garbage, _instead."

He smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Fine, they can smell girly. Let's go see what we have to work with before we start remodeling things," he suggested, moving toward the door – and the room outside his main workroom.

OOOOOO

"Uh…"

"Yeah…"

Pepper frowned, looking at Tony, and then back into the room.

"Who wrote that list?"

"Natasha, _technically_ – but with Clint's input, since he actually has kids. _This_ was not on the list."

"I'd say our magicians are feeling a little remorseful, then…"

The room wasn't a large one, but it was filled. If there was something a toddler might need, Tony was fairly certain that it had been sent to them. There were stacks of boxes that had toys, clothes, a bed – in the shape of a racecar from the picture on the outside of it – a little dresser, unbreakable dishes, sippy cups, a coat, sweatshirts and who knew what else were in the ones that they couldn't see at the bottom of the stack?

On the top of the stack closest to the door was a small box with Tony's name on it.

Since he had Peter – who was now asleep – in his arms, Pepper picked it up and opened it. She pulled out a note, and an object that he didn't recognize until she held it up. It was Peter's watch.

"_'Tony. Let us know if we missed anything. We're working on this, I assure you. Wong found Peter's watch with the rest of his things. We'll put his clothes in his room here, but I assumed you'd want this. – Stephen.'_"

"Put that in your pocket for now, will you, Pep?" he requested. "I'll want to make sure we have something on him to allow Friday to track him – just in case – but that isn't going to fit, obviously."

She did, and then looked at the copious amounts of things in the room, and shook her head.

"We're going to need some help."

"Yeah."

OOOOOOO

There were plenty of helping hands.

Since Peter was asleep, Stark put him on their bed, surrounded him in a makeshift jail made of couch cushions and pillows, and then went to work with the others to convert a walk-in closet into a playroom/bedroom.

Steve, Bruce, Clint and Natasha all came when called. Natasha and Pepper immediately started moving items from Tony's closet into Pepper's, while Steve and Clint started assembling the bed. Bruce and Tony started hauling in clothes, first, and stacking them near the bed, and then equipment like pull-up diapers, a little toddler commode – just in case that was something Peter was ready for (and they really didn't know where he was in his development) – before they moved on to all the toys.

"How many battery-powered riding toys does any kid need?" Bruce asked Tony as they carried the three cars down to the garage.

These would come into play, but were clearly outside toys – or maybe for rainy days in the gym. They certainly weren't going to be driven around the bedroom or their quarters.

"I guess they decided why stop with one," Stark said with a shrug. "I'm still trying to figure out which one of them decided that he needed a bat mobile and batman pajamas. I'll bet they could have found _Ironman_ ones…"

"I think it's hilarious."

Tony gave him a sour look, which only made Bruce smile.

"You would."

"I noticed the Incredible Hulk slippers…"

Tony had, too. He rolled his eyes.

By the time the group was finished, it looked like it had been designed to be a child's bedroom and not a billionaire's closet. The bed was along one side, there was a dresser filled with ever kind of clothing that could possibly be needed – for all kinds of weather – and the shelves that had once held Tony's shoes and other accessories were now sporting toys of every shape, size and description. The coat and three sweatshirts were hung on hooks near the door. There was a little bookshelf filled with books under the shelves, a small toddler sized table to play at, and a toy chest filled with blocks of every shape and size.

"This is insane," Steve said, looking around the room when they were finished. "If I had something like this, I'd never have grown up."

Clint nodded his agreement to that.

"It turned out nice, though."

The commode and toddler soaps and bathtub play things – boats, duckies, and bubbles – all went into the bathroom.

"The only thing missing are cartoons and videos," Pepper said. "But we can stream them, so they aren't really needed."

"Even better," Natasha said, also admiring how nicely everything went together. "When Stephen and Wong get Peter sorted out and back to himself, this can all go to a women's shelter or something."

"True."

Stark looked over at the bed, and saw that the boy had slept through all the fuss. He turned to Clint.

"You're the expert. Do we wake him for dinner or let him sleep and eat when he wakes up?"

"You're better off putting him on a schedule when it comes to little guys like him. Wake him up, feed him, give him a bath, play with him a while, and then put him to bed."

Natasha smiled and went over to the bed before anyone could stop her and leaned over, picking the sleeping child up and cradling him in her arms. As they all watched, she pressed her cheek against his, and Peter opened his eyes, sleepily, at the contact and looked up at her.

"Hey, baby," she crooned, making him smile and reach a hand up to her nose. "Are you hungry?"

"Ice cream…"

Pepper rolled her eyes, and scowled at Tony, who gave her an innocent look.

"_What_?"


	7. Chapter 7

"Anything?"

Wong shook his head, closing the book that he'd been poring through for the past two hours.

"No. Not in this one."

Strange sighed, looking at his watch.

"I think this is going to take a lot longer than we anticipated."

The other magician looked over at him, his expression serious. He started to say something, and then changed his mind and simply nodded.

"Yes."

No sense in throwing in a towel before they really started the fight, after all. Even if it did look like the odds were against them.

They were in the library. Several books were open in front of the two sorcerers and the chalice was set on the table in front of them. Meticulously, they had decided to start with each individual relic that had been pointed out by the cloak and look up everything that they had on that particular item to see if there was anything in its history that might explain what had happened to Peter – and how to reverse it.

It was slow, tedious, work, and had yet to yield anything that might help with the present situation.

"I wonder how they're doing…" Strange said, looking at his watch and deciding that the Avengers had probably had time by then to get things situated with the boy.

"It wouldn't hurt to check on him," Wong pointed out. "You know they wouldn't care."

"I know. And I _will_. I'm just hoping to have some kind of news for them before I have to face Tony – or Pepper."

"If-"

Wong was interrupted by the magical alert on the front entrance to the sanctum. Both men stood and headed for the staircase, and as they reached the second landing the cloak flitting over to take its normal position on Strange's collar, engulfing the Sorcerer Supreme with its protections – just in case.

When they reached the foyer, Wong held back, his arms slightly raised to protect Strange who went to the door – and immediately waved to the other man not to bother. He opened the door and admitted Wanda Maximoff and Vision into the sanctum, surprised to see them both, but somewhat hopeful, since they might have some information that he didn't. Vision via his link to the Mind stone and Wanda due to her own considerable abilities involving the mind itself.

"Miss Maximoff, Vision, please, come in."

"Thank you."

Wanda nodded a hello to Wong as she entered, and waited for Strange to close the door behind Vision, who looked around with interest.

"Can I get you something to drink? Dinner?" Strange offered.

"A drink would be kind, thank you," Maximoff replied.

Vision didn't need anything, and knew the question was for politeness sake and didn't need to be responded to by himself.

The two sorcerers walked them to the kitchen and Stephen offered them both a place at the kitchen island.

"Tea? Coffee? Something cold?"

"Perhaps orange juice."

She didn't ask if they had any; she knew that they didn't have anything, but that the doctor could produce whatever she requested. Which he did, setting a glass in front of her, along with a plate of mixed fruits, vegetables and pastries – just in case.

"You know what happened to Peter?" he asked, once he set a cup of coffee in front of Wong and produced a stronger drink for himself.

"I know _some_," she confirmed. "Probably nothing that will assist you in reversing it, unfortunately."

"Anything you can tell us might help," Wong pointed out, with a shrug. "A hint of what happened, even, that might point us in the correct direction."

Vision spoke up.

"I can tell you some. Peter was looking at various items and was concerned that there was a build up of animosity in the area."

"Coming from what?" Strange asked.

"The relics. He didn't know what relics – which means _I_ don't know, either, unfortunately. He turned to go, and there was a powerful release of magic that was directed at him. A killing blow – had it landed."

"One of the relics tried to kill him?"

"I think not. Perhaps? The Mind stone is not clear, unfortunately, as not all relics have a conscious aura to them, and it cannot connect with them." Vision looked at the cloak that was hanging from Strange's collar. "The Cloak of Levitation felt the attack and blocked it – somewhat – taking the brunt and saving Peter. His body was transformed somewhat – into the child now at the Avenger's facility."

"Just his body?" Strange asked. "Not his mind?"

"Just his body," Vision confirmed. "However, the Mind stone immediately reacted to what was happening, as well. It overwhelmed Peter's mind and cushioned the effects. Had it not, reverting into the body of a young child would have caused catastrophic mental problems for the boy. It would have wiped his memories and damaged him, permanently."

"In order to protect him, Peter's memories have been _muted_," Wanda told the sorcerers. "He _has_ all of them, but they are hidden from him and will remain so until his body is restored."

"Or until he ages naturally back to sixteen," Vision added, pointedly.

It wasn't in his nature to sugar coat any possible outcomes.

"Muted, how?" Strange asked. "He recognized me – and Tony when I took him home."

"He will know all of you," Wanda answered. "Those who were his friends yesterday, will still be his friends today – although all he will know is what any two-year-old would know."

"But he's still Peter?" Wong pressed. "We just have to figure out how to reverse the magic attack."

"Yes."

"That's a relief."

"I realize it isn't much," Maximoff said, almost apologetically. "But if we can find out more, we will share that information with you."

"Thank you."

Wong looked at Strange.

"Do you tell Tony?"

"Yes. He should know."

OOOOO

"_Seriously_? Is he even aiming for his mouth?"

Pepper smiled, amused. Of course, it was easy for her to laugh, she wasn't the one wearing mashed potatoes in her hair and all down the front of her. That happy joy fell on _Tony_, who had put a plate of dinner in front of the boy, and had seen it promptly pushed away.

"Ice cream."

She'd given Tony a clear _I told you so_ look, and he'd rolled his eyes.

"You can have ice cream when you're done with dinner," Stark had promised the boy. "Remember? Mommy said no ice cream until you eat."

The little face had fallen, and the big, brown eyes grew sorrowful and teary. And _then_ the lower lip had started to quiver. Pepper made a soft noise, and felt her heart break at just how sad he looked at the denial. Tony wasn't much further behind, but before either of them could give in and go get the bowl of ice cream waiting in the freezer behind the bar, Clint spoke up.

"You know the rules, little man," he said, tapping the boy's nose, lightly, with a cheerful gleam in his eyes and his tone light to keep the reprimand from hurting the fledgling feelings. "You can't grow up big and strong unless you eat your dinner, first. Right?"

Since Clint was nodding when he said it, that made Peter nod, automatically as well. Even though he clearly didn't agree with what he was being told.

"Want ice cream…"

"Eat your dinner, and I'll make sure you get all you can eat – just like your dad promised," Barton assured him.

The child eyed the plate in front of him, and reached out to pull it back toward him – and spilled it into his lap when he pulled it too forcefully. He looked down, and picked up a handful of mashed potatoes – even as Pepper and Tony were reaching for the plate and the utensils – and crammed them into his mouth, messily, looking at Clint, who nodded his approval, completely ignoring the mess.

He was a kid. They made messes. Which was why he wasn't eating _soup_ – and why his potatoes didn't have any gravy on them and were only a little warm and not hot.

"I'll get another plate," Pepper said, starting to stand up.

"Don't bother," Clint said, dragging the messy plate filled with items harvested from the toddler's lap over to put it in front of Peter, and then handing the boy a child-sized spoon. "Try it with this, buddy," he told the boy. "It's less messy."

Which it wasn't, of course, but it gave Clint an idea of how developed Peter's motor skills were. It also showed them all that Peter loved mashed potatoes and didn't like cooked carrots, and didn't seem to be a fan of meatloaf. Which they all knew the sixteen-year-old version loved. That was why they were feeding him it in the first place.

The potatoes he spooned happily into his mouth – more or less – his hand already smeared with them and occasionally wiping that messy hand on his face, or reaching over to touch Tony's cheek, as if reminding him there had better be ice cream coming when he was done. Since they were somewhat mixed in with the carrots, he'd get a bite of carrot every now and then and would spit the mess out once he realized what he was chewing – which would make Pepper roll her eyes, wondering if every child did that, or if it was somehow only Peter.

Even worse, he'd pick the carrot out and then scoop up the mostly chewed potato and put it back in his mouth – which made Tony somewhat relieved that he had decided to just eat later to allow him to concentrate on feeding Peter. His stomach could only handle so much of the show he was watching.

Clint hung back out of the messy zone, as did Pepper, but Tony was right in the midst of it all and it definitely showed. By the time the potatoes were gone and two bites of meatloaf had been cajoled onto the spoon and then into his mouth, Stark was almost as messy as Peter.

And that was saying something.

"Ice cream?" Tony asked Peter, finally giving up on getting him to eat anything else – and hoping the meatloaf didn't reappear only to be eaten again.

The boy nodded, eagerly, running his fingers through his hair – transferring some potatoes there from his hands.

"I'll get it," Pepper said, standing up. "You stay put."

She brought over a bowl of vanilla ice cream and handed it to Tony, figuring that since he made the deal, he'd better be the one to hand over to reward. Peter took it, excitedly, and took three bites before he pushed the bowl away.

"You're kidding me…" Stark said. "Really? That's _it_? You're _done_?"

All that stubbornness over three bites? And one hadn't even made it into his mouth; it was dripping down the front of his shirt.

The boy nodded, and Clint grinned.

"It's kid logic. You'll get used to it. I'll clean up here for you. You guys go give him a bath – and it wouldn't hurt for Tony to have one, too, obviously – play with him a little bit, then cuddle and read a story to him and he'll probably fall asleep. For a while, at least."

"Thanks, Clint," Tony said, sincerely. "You're a lifesaver."

He reached over and scooped Peter up, holding him still long enough for an avalanche of carrots and chopped up meatloaf to fall from the child's lap and then held him against his chest, mashed potatoes and all. The damage was done, after all.

"Have a good night." Barton watched them leave, and looked over at Natasha and Steve, who had watched the drama with all the interest of dinner theater – only without anyone bursting into unnecessary song. "Tell me you videoed that?"

Romanoff held up her phone.

"Of course."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: gotta know if this is still interesting or if I'm losing your interest. Like I said, I know the premise has been done often and I don't want bored readers. If I need to, the cure could be found quickly, although I admit, I'd like to stretch it out a bit, just because I'm really enjoying myself. And because I like to take my time on this AU._

OOOOOO

Washing Peter didn't take as long as it might have.

Stark needed cleaned up, too, so he simply stripped himself and Peter down and they both went into the shower while Pepper went to find clothing for him and pajamas for Peter. By the time she returned, the potatoes were washed out of their hair and Tony was cradling the boy in one arm under the gentle spray of the shower, while he washed shampoo out of the fine brown curls.

Pepper set Tony's clothes on the sink and approached the shower with a large, fluffy, bath towel, which she wrapped around Peter when Tony handed him over. The boy giggled when she blew a raspberry on his cheek, and squirmed a little in her arms.

"You got him?" Tony asked.

"Yes." She made a show of looking the billionaire over, up and then down. "Have you been _working_ _out_?"

Stark smiled, shooing her away with a single gesture.

"Now is not the time for flirting, Miss Potts. There are _children_ present."

She laughed and left him to his shower and carried Peter into the living room, glad she had him wrapped in the towel since he was really squirming, all of the sudden.

"Come on, sweetheart," she crooned, setting him and the towel on the leather sofa and then turning to get a pull-up diaper from the stack of supplies. "We'll get you dressed and then find ourselves something to do to amuse ourselves."

OOOOOO

Strange materialized in front of Peter's quarter like he normally did – even though he realized that they weren't going to have put 2-year-old Peter in his old quarters. At least, he assumed that they wouldn't. He hesitated, looking at the cloak, which had already detached itself from his collar.

"Do you know where Peter is?" he asked it, wondering if an age difference would matter to the relic's ability to find the boy wherever he was in the compound.

It tapped his shoulder and then moved away from the quarters he was standing in front of, and headed down the corridor. Strange glanced at Natasha's door, but knew there'd be time to stop there later and speak with her. First, he'd talk to Tony and Pepper.

The sorcerer wasn't too surprised to find that the cloak was leading him toward Tony's personal quarters. If it had been him, that was where he'd have put Peter, too. Someplace close by so he could be watched. Strange briefly mulled the realization that Peter was in a lot more danger of being kidnapped, now – if anyone ever knew that he was so vulnerable. Get beyond the protections of the compound, and grabbing a child would be easy. Holding him, even easier. It was a scary thought, and he hoped that Tony had considered that, and was glad that he'd thought to leave the boy's watch with the other items he and Wong had gathered.

A shriek of glee interrupted his dark brooding, and he looked up in time to see a naked toddler running hell bent down the corridor almost directly at him.

"_Peter!"_

Strange saw Pepper turn the corner ahead of them, clearly chasing the boy and holding a towel. He and the cloak both stopped, and even from the distance, the doctor saw the child's eyes light up when he noticed the cloak, and he changed his trajectory just a little, rushing at _it_, now, instead of down the hall.

Like some kind of crazy matador – only without the actual bullfighter – the cloak dodged the boy at the last minute, probably because it realized at the same time Strange did that Peter was soaking wet. The feint was too late, though, and even as the heavy fabric moved, Peter's little hand managed to grab a corner of the cloth, and the child was swept off his feet by the motion, flying through the air. A towel suddenly appeared in Strange's hands and with a quick jerk, the cloak sent Peter toward the magician, the boy howling with delight at the flight.

Stephen caught him, easily – although it was by far the oddest game of catch he'd ever played – and he wrapped the towel around Peter, immediately, pinning his arms under the fluffy blue material. The doctor smiled at the glee in the boy's eyes and the smile that he flashed and shifted his grip a little to make sure he didn't drop him at the last minute.

Pepper rushed up, breathless.

"Is he hurt?"

"He's fine, Pepper," Strange assured her, cuddling Peter for just a moment before handing him over to her, towel and all. "Got away from you, did he?"

She nodded, pressing her lips against the damp little cheek which made Peter giggle before she covered his head completely and wrapped him firmly in both towels, now, and started drying his hair as they walked back the way they'd come. The cloak hovered close by, clearly wanting to be near Peter, but in no hurry to press that claim with the boy being wet.

"I turned my head just for an instant, and poof! gone with the wind."

"Where's Tony?"

"In the shower. Dinner was… _messy_, and he took the brunt of it. He cleaned Peter up and handed him over to me…"

Her voice trailed off.

"Kids are slippery," the doctor reminded her. "Wet ones, even more so, I imagine. You'll get better at wrangling him, I imagine."

"I hope so. Have you learned anything?"

"A little. Let's wait until I can tell you and Tony both, though. Then I don't have to repeat myself."

OOOOOO

She was on the sofa with Strange when Stark came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt and drying his hair with a towel and she had a still squirming Peter between her knees, holding the little body still while she pulled a pull-up onto him. The Cloak of Levitation was hovering in the space between the sofa and the door to the quarters, clearly playing the role of barricade to avoid any further escape attempts, and hovering just out of reach of Peter's outstretched hand.

"Stephen," Stark said by way of greeting, draping the towel over the back of the couch and smiling down at the child – who looked over from the cloak to give him a smile before turning his attention back to the artifact. "Learn anything?"

"Some," Strange said, watching as Pepper pulled a pair of Batman pajamas onto Peter's wriggling body and then handed the boy over to the cloak.

The ancient relic wrapped itself around the little body several times and then floated over to one of the other chairs in the room, clearly intent on keeping Peter to itself now that he was dried. The boy giggled, clasping both hands in the fabric – even though he was so wrapped up there was no danger of a fall, and then fell silent, his head cocked against the cloth as though listening to something only he could hear.

"Anything to explain this?" Pepper asked, picking up the towels that she used on Peter and draping them over the sofa as well, and taking Tony's hand when he sat beside her on the couch.

"Nothing to help reverse what happened, but we did get a visit from Wanda and Vision a short time ago."

He explained what had been discussed, and both Tony and Pepper looked over at the boy, who was humming softly to himself, his ear pressed against the fabric, still, eyes wide open and watching them.

"So he _is_ Peter in every way, except he doesn't know that he's supposed to be sixteen?"

"Right. The memories will return once we have it figured out. Presumably, the Mind stone will loosen the block that is protecting him."

"Could you imagine how distraught you'd be?" Tony asked, getting up and walking over to crouch in front of the cloak and the boy, his face level with Peter's, looking at him, intently. "Waking up and finding yourself in such a little body? Unable to do all the things you were able to do only a few minutes before?"

Peter stretched a hand out and poked Tony in the eye.

"No," Strange said, shaking his head. "But I'd be a wreck, for sure. Luckily, the Mind stone has taken care of that for him. It'll give us the time Wong and I need to solve this problem."

"Thank you," Pepper said.

He winked.

"Is there anything you need?" he asked. "Anything we missed?"

"You mean besides the FAO Schwarz that you left us?" Stark asked, rubbing his eye and pressing a kiss against the boy's face before standing up and leaving him with the cloak. "I think we're good. Come look at the set up, though, and see if you can think of anything."

It was a measure of how comfortable a person can get – even with the craziest of oddities – that none of them gave it a second thought when they left Peter with his ancient babysitter and headed into the bedroom to show the doctor where they'd put Peter's room.

Which was fine with the cloak. Perhaps those ancient beings that created it might be offended at the idea of such a powerful relic being turned into nothing more than a babysitter, but the cloak didn't have any problems with it, at all.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Thanks! That's really what I wanted to know. Again, just making sure I'm entertaining and not boring. With that reassurance, I will undoubtedly make the story last a while._

OOOOO

"This is quite a set up."

Pepper smiled, walking over to the bed and pulling the blankets down in preparation for later, when they'd be putting Peter to bed.

"We had a lot of help," Stark told Stephen. "There was a lot to bring over."

That made Strange smile, too.

"Wong kept thinking of things Peter might need."

"_Wong_ did, huh?"

"Yes."

"Not Uncle Stephen being a little indulgent?"

"Right. It's all _Wong_. I'd never allow my affection for the boy to overcome common sense. How many toys does a child need, after all?"

"Right…" The way Tony drew the word out made Pepper's smile grow, and forced Strange to roll his eyes, amused. "Well, we appreciate the help, believe me. There's a lot more to little kids than I ever suspected."

"More than _teenagers_?" he asked, curiously.

"_Different_, anyway."

"What's the plan?" Strange asked, reaching over and looking at the box of science experiments that was maybe a little advanced for a two-year-old.

"For tonight? We'll play with him, read him a story and then put him to bed. Tomorrow? More of the same, I suppose," Tony told him. "We certainly can't send him to school, can we?"

"No." He hesitated. "You found his watch?"

"Yes. Thank you. It's too big for him, but I'll work on something similar though – to make sure we don't have any concerns."

"I can't find him if he doesn't have a GPS system on him," Strange reminded him.

"I know, Stephen. I'll work on it, tomorrow. First thing."

"Good. I'm going to head back to the sanctum."

"Without stopping to say hi to Romanoff?" Stark asked, with a slight smile.

"With a quick detour," the sorcerer amended.

They walked out and found the cloak still wrapped around its charge.

"We're going," Strange told it, wondering which would have the meltdown, first, the relic or the toddler.

Turns out, it was the toddler. Peter screamed when Tony reached for him as the cloak unwrapped itself from the boy's little body, and rather than hold Stark, both hands were held fast to the fabric.

"It has to go _home_, Peter," Tony told the boy, gently, not at all disturbed by the tears or the tantrum. He'd expected both. "You'll see it again, later. I promise."

Peter didn't release the cloak, obviously unimpressed, and Tony smiled as he tried to hold Peter with one hand and pry the fabric away from his tight little fists with the other. Pepper looked at Strange, also amused.

"Go say hello to Natasha. We'll send it along as soon as we get it free."

The magician nodded and excused himself, figuring they'd have more luck without an audience, and Pepper seated herself on the sofa, watching the tug of war between man and child with an ancient magical relic as the prize.

"Don't you think you should help?" Tony asked her, holding Peter in one arm, and still trying to pry the cloak loose with his free hand.

"I'm thinking I need some _popcorn_," she admitted.

Stark rolled his eyes and decided on a different tact.

He stopped trying to take the cloak away, and draped the heavy fabric over his shoulder, on the other side of the arm he had Peter in. The cloak went willing. It was obviously unprepared to be so coveted and wanted to get loose as much as Tony wanted to get it loose, but short of zapping the toddler, it was pretty much helpless in the grip that was much stronger than a regular toddler could muster.

Tony started humming, softly, swaying just a little, but thinking back to the same sound that he'd listened to Peter making while the boy had been wrapped in the cloak earlier. The child turned his head toward him, curiously, but as Pepper watched, Tony just tucked Peter right up under his chin, his cheek against his neck and cradled him as he continued to hum. It wasn't a melody either of them recognized – for all they knew it was older than most of the universe, if it was actually a tune that Peter had picked up listening to the ancient relic – but Peter recognized it, and calmed down almost immediately.

Stark felt him sigh against his neck, and looked over at Pepper, who gave him a thumbs-up.

Peter's grip loosened, and his hands fell to his sides. The cloak felt this, too, obviously, and sidled away from the boy so cautiously that Tony and Pepper both smiled at it. Without hesitation, it went to the door and let itself out, and Pepper went over and closed the door behind it, shaking her head.

"I bet _that's_ never happened to it before," she told him, coming over to stand beside Tony, leaning against his side and putting her head against his chest, right in front of Peter.

"No, I don't suppose. Ancient artifact zero, toddler _one_."

Peter reached out a hand and pressed it against Pepper's cheek, but didn't lift his head from Tony's neck.

"Momma…"

She smiled.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"We're supposed to _play_ with him, according to Clint," Tony reminded her. It sure felt like the child was thinking about going to sleep – but it was still early. "Let's go see what he wants to do."

They moved toward the newest bedroom and Tony kissed Peter's cheek before setting the boy on the floor. Peter looked up at him, and then at the toys around him.

"Go ahead, sweetheart," Pepper told him. "Find something to play with."

Peter got up and moved off, heading for the stack of large building blocks. He plopped himself down and started stacking them, mumbling to himself as he did, and Tony sat down on the floor with a tired sigh.

"I'm too _old_ for this," he told her, dramatically, laying backwards and stretching out.

"He'll fall asleep, eventually," she assured him, sitting down beside him, ross-legged, and running her hand along his chest. "Then we'll get a break."

"Yeah?"

"He has to sleep."

Tony looked over, and Peter was pushing a block around the floor, making raspberry noises that were probably supposed to engine sounds.

"Don't forget to _shift_, son," he reminded him, rolling over onto his side and putting his head in Pepper's lap so he could be held and could watch Peter play at the same time. "Otherwise you'll ruin your engine."

Pepper caressed Tony's cheek, also watching Peter.

"Do you want me to stay home tomorrow?"

"Do you want to?"

"I have some important projects, right now, but he comes first. If you want me to stay and help you with him, I can."

"We'll be okay, Pep," Stark assured her. "If you get done, though, you can come home early and feed him lunch. If it's anything like dinner was, you're welcome to the front row seat."

Pepper smiled.

"You looked a little green."

"You saw what he was doing. That isn't normal, honey."

Before she could reply, Peter got to his feet and walked over to them, crawling into Pepper's lap and sitting on Tony's head.

"And this is?" she asked.

"I think Vision's wrong," he replied, lifting Peter enough to free his head and sit up, then replacing the boy in her lap. "It isn't Peter. It's some kind of crazy alien that's just in the form of Peter."


	10. Chapter 10

"I think it's time for that story," Tony said, watching as Peter shifted around in Pepper's lap, obviously looking for an exact spot to settle that he hadn't found as of yet. "He's had a long day."

"So have I," Pepper agreed. "And I still haven't had _dinner_."

"When he falls asleep, I'll sneak away and get us some."

"Not potatoes or carrots, though, please…"

"No worries," he assured her, standing up and picking Peter off her lap for a moment so she could as well. Then she reached for the child, once more and he smiled over at Tony, turning himself upside down in her grip. "I'm never eating either of them, again."

Pepper laughed and headed for their bed, which was large enough for them to all cuddle on The toddler bed was a little small for that.

"Bring a book."

"Preference?"

"Not _War and Peace_."

Stark smiled and grabbed a Dr. Seuss book from the shelf and followed. He took Peter, so Pepper could settle herself onto the bed and then handed the boy over once more. To his amusement and Pepper's surprise, Peter nestled against her, and like he had with Natasha, went rooting for her breast.

Clint had anticipated that, though, and Tony was ready – even though Pepper wasn't.

"Hey, now," Stark said, putting a careful hand between the boy's mouth and Pepper's somewhat drooled on shirt. "Those are for _daddy_. You're too old for them – or not old _enough_ for them, depending on how you look at it."

"_Tony_…" Pepper's tone was reproving even though her expression was clearly amused.

"No worries, dear," Stark told her with a wink as Peter looked up at her, his brown eyes becoming watery once more and that adorable lower lip starting to quiver. They were both already learning that those were ready signs of an imminent bout of tears, or a tantrum. "Clint warned us that no women are going to be safe from him at this age, and suggested a substitute."

With a flourish, Stark produced a binky, and pressed it against Peter's quivering lip. The boy opened his mouth, willingly, and the disaster was averted.

"Smooth," she admitted, watching as Peter shifted just a little, pacifier working furiously, and his cheek now resting against her.

"He's a breast man," Tony said, approvingly, leaning over and kissing her – and then Peter – before handing her the book. "He went after Natasha's earlier, before you came home. Apparently, it's a comfort thing, and not a _hungry_ thing. Hence the pacifier."

"Smart."

"I know, right?"

"Of _Clint_."

He grinned, and hooked his finger into his lip like a fish caught on a hook, letting her know she got him.

"Can you hold him and read? Or do you want me to help?"

"I'd hate to have to help you with the words…" she told him with a pert smile, opening the book with the hand that wasn't holding Peter.

He smirked his approval of the dig, and settled in, his head resting on her shoulder as she started reading, and watching as Peter blinked a few times and then fell asleep in her arms before Horton got his Whos to safety.

"If you put him to bed," Pepper whispered when the story was over. "I'll go find us something to eat."

"Deal."

She passed the sleeping boy over to Tony, who carried him into his room and put him into his own bed. The black teddy bear was put in the crook of Peter's arm and he shifted in his sleep to cuddle against it, while Tony watched. He bent over and kissed the child, tucked the blankets around him and turned off the light – although he did leave the door open a little.

"Friday, make sure you watch him," Tony said, walking over to the bed, and sitting down. "If he wakes up and leaves our quarters we need to know."

Especially without a GPS tracker.

Not that they were worried about sleepwalking – not as young as he was – but Clint had also warned that toddlers weren't above waking up in the middle of the night and wandering around.

"Gotcha, boss."

OOOOOOO

It wasn't a gourmet meal by any means, but they were both tired, and the sandwiches and chips Pepper brought back were devoured with very little conversation.

"I think I'll go in tomorrow," Pepper decided as they simply put the dishes to the side and cuddled together, propped up by their headboard and listening for any sound from the other room. "I'd be alright taking the day off, but it would throw a wrench in everyone else's schedules and that isn't fair to them."

"True." Tony took her hand, kissing it. "I'll watch him . We'll be fine. Really."

"Good."

"Good."

Pepper was the first to fall asleep. Not surprisingly, since she'd worked that day, and had then come home to the limitless energy of a toddler when she wasn't used to it. She scooted down in the bed beside Tony, her arm going around his hip, holding him, contentedly.

He didn't take much longer, but he was alert enough to at least make sure they were both comfortable. He moved the pillows a little and brought up the blankets over them without moving her or waking her. A verbal command turned off all but a nightlight in the bathroom, and he closed his eyes and went to sleep, too. If their afternoon/evening was any indication, the next day was going to be a long one, and he needed some sleep.

OOOOOOOO

The sound of the toilet flushing woke him from a dream about fishing on a boat with Pepper and Peter. Tony ignored the noise – it was a pretty common occurrence, after all – and tightened his hold just a little on Pepper, who was snoring softly beside him. He was almost to sleep again when he heard the toilet flush, once more, and the distinctive sound of water splashing coming from the bathroom and muted giggles.

He opened his eyes, realizing that it wasn't Pepper getting up in the night. She was right beside him in the bed.

"Oh, no…"

With a soft groan, he slid carefully out of bed and padded on bare feet toward the bathroom and turned on the light. And stopped in the doorway.

"You've got to be kidding me…"

Peter looked over at him, grinning. The boy was sitting in the toilet, splashing the water around him, and even as he watched, the toddler reached up and pulled the flushing lever, chortling softly to himself when the water came cascading into the bowl once more. The hand that wasn't flushing was holding a rubber duck that he must have taken from the edge of the tub and he appeared to be having the time of his life.

"Are you _supposed_ to be out of bed?" he asked, walking over and immediately noticing that there was a lot of water on the bathroom floor.

"What's going on, Tony?" Pepper asked, sleepily, from the doorway. Then she got her own look at what Peter was doing, and stared. "Oh, no…"

"Don't worry, Pepper," he said, reaching down and picking Peter out of the toilet, his soggy pull-up falling off his bottom. His pajamas were nowhere to be seen. "I'll take care of it. Go back to sleep."

"Are you sure?" she asked, pulling a couple of towels from the shelf they normally rested on. "I don't mind."

"No. I'm sure. Close the door so we don't keep you awake. He probably should have a bath."

Again.

"I'll bring something for him to sleep in," she offered, leaving the two of them alone for a moment.

With Peter in one arm mumbling happily to himself, Tony leaned over and started water in the tub _He_ wasn't dirty, this time, so he had no intention of taking a bath, but hanging out in the toilet was almost certainly a prerequisite for Peter needing one.

Pepper returned with a set of Thor pajamas and a new pull up, kissed Tony and Peter, and then closed the door behind her.

"You know what would have happened if you'd flushed yourself?" Tony asked the toddler, who turned in his arm to look up at him, brown eyes happy. "You'd be out swimming in the sea, right now. I've seen you swim, Peter," he added, turning off the water. "It's not sea-worthy."

"_Swim!"_

Stark smiled, reaching for the child soap and a sponge.

"Yeah… swim…" He started lathering the little body, tickling him every time he got the opportunity, awake enough, now, to find the humor in the situation. "Maybe we'll play in the pool tomorrow."

He couldn't remember if there had been any arm floaties in the prodigious amount of children's things, but if not, they could get some. He certainly wasn't going to let Peter into the water without them. Toilet and bathtubs being the exception, of course.

OOOOOO

Pepper roused when he joined her in their bed once more, and smiled sleepily when she realized that he wasn't alone.

"You don't mind?" he whispered as he settled a sleeping Peter against her side before sliding in next to her and then tucking him into the space between them.

"Of course not," she said, sleepily, turning on her side to face them, but closing her eyes. "He's okay?"

"He had a bath, got put into his new Thor pajamas and then proved to me that he's potty trained, so that's one less thing we need to worry about."

"That's good."

And one less indignity for the boy to have to suffer.

Peter shifted onto his side, as well, his face pressed into Tony's shirt and Stark waited to see if he was going to wake. He didn't, though, and he sighed a silent sigh of relief and reached out to take Pepper's hand.

"Good night…"

She didn't answer. She'd already gone back to sleep.

It didn't take him long to follow suit.


	11. Chapter 11

Going to sleep with a toddler between them wasn't that odd, really. They'd had the teenaged version of Peter in their bed many times, sleeping between them when a nightmare or some other kind of concern had sent him into their bed for comfort – usually sleepwalking, but sometimes a panic attack. It was a simple matter to flank the boy and make sure he felt loved. Doing the same thing with a toddler wasn't that different; there was just a smaller area between the two – and a need for a pacifier, obviously, since the younger version of Peter was just as comfortable with Pepper as the teenaged version was and had absolutely no regard for personal boundaries.

_Waking up_ with a toddler, on the other hand, was very different, as they found out their first morning.

Peter wasn't on their schedule, yet, and Tony felt the boy moving beside him somewhat before their alarm was scheduled to wake them. It was all the warning he had before he felt someone – a _little_ someone – crawl on top of him and sit on his chest.

He opened his eyes and saw Peter looking down at him, perched with one little leg hanging down either side of his chest and both hands on the spot right above Tony's sternum. When he saw his eyes open, Peter smiled.

_"Ice cream!"_

Pepper stirred, as Stark reached up and tapped the little nose, causing Peter to giggle.

"He is _not_ having ice cream for breakfast, Tony."

"Of course not, Pep…" Stark looked at his watch, which drew Peter's attention, too, and the little boy grabbed his wrist, pulling it toward him to play with the buttons.

Tony figured that was one of those battles that it was easier not to fight, and just let him fiddle with it, while he looked over at Pepper, who was watching the two of them.

"You look so cute, together like that," she said, sleepily. "When he's back to normal size, it'd probably be impossible to convince him to do that, I suppose."

Stark rolled his eyes, amused.

"I suppose."

"Ice cream!"

"_Tony?"_

Stark jerked his watch back, realizing Peter had managed to find the communication button and had keyed it to general broadcast. It was five-thirty in the morning and now every Avenger in the place knew Peter was awake.

"Hey, Romanoff. Ignore that, okay?"

Pepper snorted, and Peter reached for the watch, again, frowning at having the newest toy taken away so abruptly.

"_Someone's awake?"_ came the reply, amused.

"Yeah. Tell everyone to go back to bed – or whatever they were doing. Sorry."

He sat up, wrapping his arms around Peter to keep him from tumbling off of him – and the bed.

"Come on," he said, pressing his lips against the closest cheek and blowing a raspberry, which made Peter giggle and squirm. "Let's let mommy sleep a little longer."

"I'm going to get up," Pepper replied. "I'll go make coffee. Find him something to snack on to tide him over until breakfast."

"Okay."

"Not ice cream."

"Right."

"Ice cream…" Peter repeated, throwing himself backward as Stark got out of bed, and hanging upside down from Tony's tenuous grasp.

"He's going to jump right out of my arms one of these times," Stark grumbled, grabbing a foot with his other hand and securing the grip he had, but just letting the boy dangle.

Pepper smiled.

"Just don't let him fall on his head."

OOOOOOO

The lounge was almost empty when Romanoff walked into it with Steve and Clint. Which wasn't a big surprise since it was Friday morning and people were either in their labs working, or doing drills, or a million other things that needed to get done before the weekend. That just made it easier for them to find who they were looking for, though, the three walked over to the corner table, where Tony was cuddling Peter. The toddler was sobbing, softly, into his neck and holding onto his wrinkled t-shirt as though the world had ended for him.

"Awww," Natasha said, worriedly, when she was close enough to notice that the boy was crying. "What's going on?"

"Pepper went to work," Stark explained. "Without _Peter_."

"_Mommy_…" Peter murmured, into his neck, not looking up.

"She wouldn't take him?" Steve asked, with a smile, reaching over and brushing a hand over the little boy's back, which made Peter look over, his eyes teary and bright, and all the woes of the universe etched in his tiny, little, red face. "I can't imagine why."

Natasha stepped up beside Steve, and held her arms out to Peter, instantly needing to comfort him, and the child offered her his arms, still sobbing. Tony handed him over, and Romanoff tucked his head up under her chin and walked away, crooning softly to the boy, while Clint and Steve sat down at Tony's table.

"You look beat," Clint noted, his eyes cheerful.

"I'm _exhausted_," Stark admitted. "Do they make children's Xanax?"

"Nope. Kids are rough. Especially at that age. I bet a teenager is looking pretty easy, now, huh?"

"Not one with superpowers," Stark said, shrugging, and looking over at the bar, where Natasha and Dena were both fussing over the child in Romanoff's arms. "But, yes. If I need a break from my sixteen-year-old, I tell him to go find something to do and he does – usually it includes taking a drive in his car. That won't quite work with him at this age, obviously."

"Did he get his ice cream this morning?" Steve asked, smiling. Proving that he, also, had heard the general cry for breakfast that morning.

"So far all he's had is a handful of cheerios," Tony admitted. "We figured once Pepper was dressed for her day, it was less risk to give him something that he couldn't smear all over her. Now that she's gone, I'll feed him something more substantial and then get him into something other than pajamas. Once I get him to stop crying."

Natasha walked over, then, and now Peter was sitting more upright in her arms, his face still red, but the tears no longer smearing his cheeks. One hand was holding her uniform, the other was holding a granola bar.

"You look beat, Tony," she said, sitting down with them, still holding the boy, who turned in her arms so his back was to her front and he could watch everyone at the table while he gnawed on his prize.

"Because I was fishing _Ahab_ there out of the toilet bowl at 2am," he told her.

"What was he doing in the toilet bowl?" Steve asked.

"Who knows?" Stark replied. "All I know is he was holding the duck and kept flushing, playing with the water. I gave him a bath, cleaned up the mess and brought him to bed with me rather than risk finding him someplace worse, next time."

"Swim…" Peter said, cheerfully, spitting pieces of chewed up granola bar at them.

Natasha smiled and pulled his head back against her, leaning down to kiss him.

"Maybe we'll play in the pool, later," she said.

"That's what I told him," Tony agreed. "Not, yet, though. First he-"

"Is that _really_ Peter?" a voice interrupted, making them all look over to see that Nick had joined them without them noticing.

Well, Natasha had noticed, but she ignored the arrival of Fury, since he wasn't a threat to any of them and she had a cute baby in her arms to pay attention to, instead.

"Yes," Tony answered, watching as Peter regarded the newcomer with his big brown eyes. "That's him."

"I can't leave you people alone for a minute, can I?" Fury asked, rhetorically, studying the child Romanoff was holding.

"This one wasn't us," Natasha said. "Just an accident with something at the sanctum. Stephen and Wong are figuring it out."

"Is he alright?" Nick asked.

"Seems to be," Tony answered. "Just smaller, with less refined memories, right now."

"What does he know?" Fury asked, curiously. "Have you had a chance to test anything?"

"We've been trying to get him situated," Stark admitted. "I thought I'd observe him awhile and see how he reacts to what's going on."

"May I?" Fury asked Romanoff, offering Peter his hands.

The boy hesitated for a moment, and then visibly decided that it wasn't such a terrible idea and reached for the former director of SHIELD, who picked him up, granola bar and all. Peter watched him, cheerfully, not at all afraid – which confirmed what Stephen had told Stark. The boy definitely knew who was friend and who was foe. At least, he knew who were his friends. As for _foes_, well, none of them would be getting close to Peter when he was so vulnerable, so they wouldn't be able to test that side of things.

"Hey, baby," Fury said, smiling down at the child, looking just as comfortable holding the baby as he would have if he'd been holding a handgun. "What's your name?"

"Peter…"

Stark smiled. It sounded more like a question, really, but it was right, at least.

"And who am I?" Nick asked, grinning approval.

"_Nick…"_

Peter offered him a bite of the granola bar, and Fury leaned over and bit a piece off, pretending to chew it as if it were the most amazing thing in the world and not at all sloppy because of being gnawed on. Tony was impressed. _He_ probably would have thrown up.

"_Very_ good, my man," Fury told him. He pointed at Romanoff with the hand not holding Peter. "I bet you don't know her name…?"

"Na'asha…"

"And him?" Fury pointed at Steve.

"Steve Ame'ica."

"And him?"

"Clint."

"Who's that suspicious looking guy with the scruff that obviously didn't think he needed to get dressed up for breakfast this morning and thinks it's alright to make all the Avengers look bad?"

Peter grinned, pulling away so he could turn upside down in the director's arm and look at Tony, who rolled his eyes but smiled.

"_Daddy!"_

Fury wasn't the only one to smile.

"I'd say he knows a bit."


	12. Chapter 12

Stark smiled at that, and to his credit, he didn't panic and lunge for Peter, who looked absolutely fine hanging upside down in Fury's grasp. The director was comfortable holding the child upside down, as well, competent in everything that he did.

"How much is two plus two?" Clint asked.

"Ice cream…"

Natasha smiled, watching the boy's face turn red from being upside down.

"Peter?" She asked. "Where's Ironman?"

The boy's eyes widened, and he pointed at Tony.

"_Daddy's_ I'nman."

"So, he knows his people," Fury said, with interest, gathering the boy back up into his arms rather than see the vein in Stark's forehead grow any bigger, even though he didn't actually say anything. "But his math skills are worthless."

"Stephen said he would remember those he knew before the 'happening'," Natasha pointed out. "He didn't say anything about math skills."

"What about his _other_ talents?" the director asked, curiously. "Has anyone checked?"

"He's not going to be web-swinging," Tony pointed out. "The webs are tech – and I'm not sure where his bracelet is, but the watch doesn't fit, right now."

"The web swinging isn't what I was referring to, Tony," Fury said, calmly, walking over to the closest wall. "His grip is strong, but I couldn't say it's stronger than any other 2 year old. But what about-"

"No, Nick," Tony said, standing up. "Don't do it, okay?"

"Why not?" he asked, surprised. "Aren't you curious?"

"Because I don't want to chase him up a wall if he realizes that he can do something that he didn't know he could do, before."

"Huh." Fury looked at the boy in his arms, who smiled and silently offered him another bite of his granola bar. And again, he took a small bite and made a show of how good it was. "I suppose that makes sense." He shook his head, again, and ran his fingers through the child's hair before bringing him back to Natasha and handing him over to her.

"Na'asha…" Peter mumbled, smiling cheerfully as she took him into her arms.

"That's some crazy shit, Tony," Fury muttered, still thinking about trying to put the child up on the ceiling.

Romanoff shook her head.

"_Language_, Nick."

Steve rolled his eyes, amused, and Natasha settled the boy back onto her lap, once more facing out and still gnawing on the granola bar.

"Right. Sorry. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

"We will," Stark said. "Thanks."

"And get some sleep, Tony," he added. "You look tired."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you go take a break?" Natasha asked. "We can watch Peter this morning."

"As a matter of fact, we _want_ to watch him," Steve added. "He can spend the morning chasing Jack, and that will help me by giving him his morning run, and it'll help you by wearing him out."

Tony didn't even hesitate. He wanted some rest, but more importantly, he'd been trying to figure out how to make Peter safer with a GPS watch – or something – while watching him or holding him. If the others were willing to take care of him – and Clint had kids, so Tony knew he'd be in good hands – who was he to turn down that gift horse?

"He hasn't eaten, yet," he reminded them.

"We'll feed him," Natasha assured him. "We'll do that and you sneak out while he's distracted."

"He can't have ice cream," Stark reminded them, approving of the idea to avoid more tears if he could. "Pepper said no."

"He'll have oatmeal," Natasha said, bouncing her little guy on her lap. "Cause Peter _likes_ oatmeal, don't you, baby?"

Peter dropped his granola bar, and leaned over looking down at it, laying on the floor.

"Shit."

Clint snickered, and even Natasha smiled. Tony rolled his eyes and Steve reached for the offending treat, but didn't give it to the boy. There was no five second rule when it came to stick granola bars.

"_Fury_ taught him that," Tony pointed out. "You all heard him."

OOOOOOO

"What are you working on?"

Tony looked up and saw Strange leaning against the workroom door, his arms crossed over his chest.

"A GPS bracelet to fit Peter."

"Why not just shrink the band on his existing one?" the magician asked, curiously, walking into the room to see what he had planned.

"Because the watch that he has, now, also encases the webshooter for that wrist. It's in the wristband, which would be damaged if I tried to shrink it. It will make more sense to just create a smaller one for him to wear, now."

"One without a communications capability?" Strange asked, amused. "So he can't wake everyone up looking for ice cream?"

Tony smiled.

"You heard, too?"

"It was hard to miss," the doctor conceded. "Did he get any?"

"You'd have to ask Natasha and the others. They're watching him this morning."

"I wasn't aware that Peter even likes ice cream all that much…"

"He _doesn't_. He's a cake guy. But _little_ Peter has different tastes, apparently."

"Oh?"

"Don't even get me started on dinner last night."

Strange smiled, remembering that he'd need to bathe afterward.

"I'll take your word for it."

"Have you and Wong had any luck?"

"Not yet. Wong went to China. They have some resources that he wanted to look at – and they won't let them out of their sanctum. So I thought I'd come see how you're faring."

"He's a cute little kid," Tony told him. "I see him, now, as a child, and wonder if it's close to what he was like, back then."

"Watch the video his parents made him."

"It doesn't show him doing much," Stark said. "It's mostly him sitting on their laps. But it's a good idea."

"I'd advise you don't watch it with him, though. It would undoubtedly be very confusing – if not painful."

"Good point. Thanks."

"Did he sleepwalk?" Strange asked, curiously, gesturing to the equipment and materials that Tony had on the worktable in front of him. "Is there any concern of that?"

Stark smiled.

"I found him playing in the toilet last night, but I don't think he was sleepwalking. Just being a dumb little kid looking for something to play with at 2am."

That made Stephen smile, as well.

"Your AI can track him?"

"In the compound, yes. Beyond the sensors? Not as easily. I don't expect him to leave the compound, but things _happen_ to him, Stephen, and I want to be ready for it – just in case."

"Does it just have to have GPS?" the sorcerer asked. "Or is there anything else you're planning on adding?"

"No. Not really. Communications would be wasted on him, and would save a lot of early morning wake up calls, and as far as I know, he can't tell time, yet."

The magician made a simple gesture and a small, child-sized bracelet was sitting on the worktable.

"Give that a try," he suggested. "It's toddler-sized, and should be able to hold whatever GPS device you might want to use."

Stark picked it up, looking at it curiously.

"What's to stop him from taking it off?" he asked. "That's what has me stumped, right now."

"It's magic, Tony," Strange told him with a wink. "Once it goes on, it won't come off. Low key enough, though, that even if he still has the sensitivities to magic – and judging by the actions with the cloak last night, I'd say that he still does – it shouldn't bother him at all. The cloak didn't, after all."

"Thanks." Tony was already deciding possibilities on how best to fit the GPS locator. "Where's your cloak _today_?"

The doctor smiled.

"It didn't want to come. I can't imagine why…"


	13. Chapter 13

With Wong in China, Strange decided to take a break from working on Peter's problem for a while and stayed at the compound. For one thing, they had been working on it straight since it had happened for the most part and everything was starting to run together – which told him it wouldn't be a bad idea for him to step back for a bit – and for another, he wanted a chance to spend a little time with the boy and make his own observations about Peter's side of things. Just for research purposes, he told himself. Not because he wanted to spend time with an adorable two-year-old.

He hung out in the workroom with Tony, first, though, and watched, impressed, as the billionaire finished the GPS portion of Peter's bracelet fairly quickly, now that he had the problem of keeping it on an active child's wrist. It took a little longer to make sure the tech in the bracelet _worked_, and while Stark was doing that, he filled Stephen in on the events of the morning; Peter's meltdown when Pepper left for work, and how Fury had questioned the boy on some things – _simple things_ – and how he'd had him avoid testing Peter's more interesting abilities.

"We don't really have a way to check if his spider senses are still with him," Strange mused, leaning against the table that Tony was working at. "But if he's still sensitive to magic, and he has some form of the superior strength, since his grip on the cloak should not have normally been so incontrovertible, I'd lean more toward the possibility that it's _all_ still there."

"Including the sensitivity to your Time stone," Tony said, looking over from the bracelet.

"Yes. Too bad, really, since if we know he's still intact in there, using the Time stone could probably solve the problem – if I focused it directly on Peter."

"But it would kill teenaged Peter, right?" Tony asked. "If you concentrated the power of the stone on him, I mean?"

"Almost certainly. The two-year-old version wouldn't have a chance. I'd never even consider putting him through it."

"No," Tony agreed, glumly. "I wouldn't ask you to. _Little_ Peter is better than _no_ Peter."

"Agreed. But we're not done working on the problem, Tony. Wong might turn something up while he's gone, and we still have most of the library to work our way through."

"I know." He _did_, too. Strange had that slightly tired look of someone who had stayed up a little too late, and had been up a little too early. Tony knew it was from spending time in the formidable library in the sanctum. He had that same tired look – only his was from fishing Peter out of the toilet in the middle of the night and dealing with the resulting mess – on boy and bathroom. He held up the now complete bracelet. "You can lock onto it with your spell?"

There was a momentary look of concentration and a gesture and a portal appeared in the room next to them.

"No problem."

The ring of fire vanished.

"Perfect. Thanks. Shall we go see how the Avengers are faring with him?"

Strange smiled.

"I'm sure they're doing fine. They have much more experience with a toddler than you or I."

With Clint they did, anyway, Tony knew. He asked Friday where to find Peter and he and Strange left the work room and headed for the field.

OOOOOOO

As it turned out, they _were_ fine. As was Peter.

When Tony and Stephen walked out the exit closest to the drilling field, they both stopped for just a minute, watching as the toddler chased Jack – Steve's half-grown chocolate lab puppy – across the field, trying to get a ratty piece of knotted up rope from the dog. It was a game Peter and Jack had played more than once – although before Peter's legs had been longer than the puppy's were, and now they weren't. It didn't matter to either of them, though. Jack would drop the rope and watch Peter, who would run up to grab it, and then – depending on the mood of the puppy – Peter would be allowed to get it so the boy could run away and the dog would chase him down and bowl him over to play tug-of-war for his rope – or Jack would grab the rope before Peter could and the boy would chase him.

Standing on the sidelines, watching everything going on and making sure neither participant cheated, or was too rough with the other, were Steve and Natasha. Not surprisingly, it was Natasha who turned when they finally walked up to the field, and she smiled a greeting to them both, although it was Strange who got the tender look, and the gentle brush of hand across the other's fingers.

"They look like they're having a good time," Strange said, standing next to her.

"They've been doing this for almost an _hour_," Steve told them. "I expect one of them to give up, eventually."

"Where's Clint?" Tony asked, watching as Peter tripped over his own feet and went down in a tumble.

He started to move forward, to go check on the boy and make sure he hadn't hurt himself, but Steve stopped him, simply by bringing an arm up to block him. As Tony watched, Jack came running back to the fallen child and stuck his nose into the boy's face, eliciting a lot of giggling and an immediate wrestling match – and then a tug-of-war. Eventually Peter wound up with the rope, and he took off at his full speed – which was considerably less than Jack's – and the race was on again.

"He went to check on you."

Stark smiled.

"Here I am."

"Did you get any sleep?" Natasha asked.

"No. But I got his GPS locator finished – with a little bit of help from _Stephen_, here. He won't be able to give us the slip, now."

"That's good," Steve said, and it was obvious from her expression that Natasha agreed with him.

"He had breakfast?" Tony asked.

"He did. With a lot more success than your dinner experiment," Natasha told him with a smug smile. "Because we had _Clint_ feed him."

"Because I am the _expert_," Barton said, walking up to them just in time to hear the comment. "How are you feeling? Rested?"

"No, but I appreciate the assist," Tony told them all. "So much so that Stephen and I will take you all to lunch."

"Oooooh," Natasha said, making impressive noises.

"In the _lounge_," Stark finished.

"Oh."

They all grinned, and Steve whistled, drawing Jack's attention. The puppy came running, and right behind him came Peter, who recognized Tony standing next to the others and made a bee-line for him, instead of following Jack.

"_Daddy!"_

Tony smiled, his heart skipping a beat at the happy greeting and he swept the boy up into his arms, feeling Peter hug him tightly and bury his cold nose against his neck, mumbling to himself as he did so. _"Daddy… daddy… daddy."_

"Did you have fun?" he asked the boy, pressing a kiss against the top of his head, since that was the only place he could reach.

"Yeah." Peter pushed himself back, a hand on Tony's chest, and he pointed to Jack, who was being made much of by Steve. "Jack."

"I know, Peter," Tony told him with a smile. He pointed at Strange. "And do you know _his_ name?"

"Ste'en," came the instant reply, and Peter grinned, turning himself upside down in Tony's arms and waving at Strange, who also smiled.

They'd dressed Peter in jeans and a white t-shirt with a red, white and blue Captain America sweatshirt over it, Tony saw. He was going to find some Ironman clothes for the kid, for sure.

"Very good. Do you know what he _does_?"

"We're working on seeing what he knows, and what he doesn't," Natasha explained to Strange, who nodded.

"Tony told me."

"Ste'en is _magic_," Peter replied, wriggling in Tony's arms, slightly out of breath, still, from running around.

"Yes, he _is_," Natasha agreed with an impish smile. "Are we ready to eat?"

"Are you hungry, Peter?"

"_Ice cream!"_

Tony rolled his eyes, but he was as amused as the others, and he readjusted his grip on the boy who leaned forward and tried to kiss his nose, but ended up with his open mouth on Stark's eye, instead. Close enough.

"We'll see."


	14. Chapter 14

"Well, _that's_ convenient, isn't it?"

Steve looked down at the puppy who had purposely flopped himself under Peter's chair. One would think – at least everyone at the table had initially thought – that it was because Jack liked Peter. And he did. They could all tell. But apparently Jack was a pretty smart dog, because placing himself under Peter had been a good way to get himself a lunchtime treat when usually there was no such thing.

The child was in a high chair, now, since Strange had seen the need when they'd entered the lounge and one had magically appeared. He was situated between Stark and Stephen, and Tony had brought over lunch, which for Peter was a chopped up hotdog, some mac and cheese – not too warm, of course – and a dish of ice cream Strange had produced, even though Tony told him not to bother since Peter probably would only have a bite or two and then not want any more.

Everyone else was having burgers or chicken sandwiches.

_Peter_ hadn't wanted mac and cheese, and he proved it by pushing it off his plate, and then off the high chair platform. Tony had reached for it to clean the mess, but Jack had beaten him to it and simply cleared the glob and looked up, waiting for Peter to drop something else.

"Dogs are handy that way," Clint said, approvingly. "My kids use Nick Furry the same way. There is no five second rule in my house, at all."

With a fair amount of cajoling and some trickery, they managed to get most of the hotdog into Peter, and a couple of bites of the mac and cheese. It would always be a mystery if he would have eaten the ice cream, because he started falling asleep somewhere toward the end of the meal and the adults watched in varying stages of amusement as the toddler would shove a piece of hotdog in his mouth, chew it for a moment and then start to doze off, only to jerk awake and start chewing for another moment. Before starting the cycle over.

Eventually, he gave up the fight to stay awake and laid his head down on his plate – right in his mac and cheese. Tony smiled and pulled him out of the highchair, gently, ignoring the cheese sauce dripping from his cheek that Jack was eagerly licking off the floor.

"I think he's ready for a nap," he said, softly.

Strange made a gesture and the boy's face and clothing – which _had_ been splattered with cheese sauce – was clean again, and Tony gave him a smile, cuddling Peter against his chest. Peter sighed, and his little fists grabbed Stark's shirt, but only for a moment.

"Thank you, Stephen."

"Certainly."

"Need help with him?" Natasha asked.

"No. Thanks, though. I'm going to go put him in my bed. Thanks for watching him this morning, guys."

"I'll bet you a dollar that he ends up in his bed _with_ him," Clint said, still amused, as they watched Stark leave, carrying the sleeping Toddler, easily.

"No bet."

Natasha looked over at Strange.

"Did you notice that Peter would look at you every time you did magic?"

The sorcerer shook his head, but Clint nodded.

"Yeah. Never failed. Think he's sensitive, still?"

"I'd bet on it," Romanoff said.

"I wonder if it's _more_ sensitivity because he's smaller?" Steve mused.

"Or _less_, because it isn't developed, yet, maybe?"

They all wondered, but of course, there was no way to ask the child.

"If Wong isn't back by tonight, maybe I'll come to dinner and try it, again," Strange said. "Just so I can see it for myself."

OOOOOOO

Pepper was in between meetings and eating a hurried lunch when her phone chimed at her. She smiled when she saw who it was, and hurriedly answered. And then her smile broadened. Tony was on the other end of the call, and sleeping soundly in his arms was Peter, who was drooling, just a little.

"Hey, Mommy," Tony said, softly, not wanting to wake Peter, but wanting to give her a chance to see him. "_How's your day going?"_

"It's about done," she said. "One more meeting and I'm going to sneak out of here and start my weekend, early."

"_I think that's a great idea."_

"How long did he cry this morning?"

Stark's smile was gentle when he looked down at the baby in his arms.

"_It was a while,"_ he admitted. _"But then he had oatmeal with the Avengers, and life was okay, again."_

"So I can be replaced by _oatmeal_?"

He stopped himself from shrugging, just at the last minute.

"_You're lucky. I was replaced by Jack and a chewed up piece of rope."_

Pepper smiled.

"I'll be home in a while."

"_Drive safe."_

"I love you."

"_We love you, too."_

She smiled and the call dropped, the screen going black. Pepper looked down at her right hand, at the ring that she wore. The mother's ring that Peter had given her. It made her smile to think of how nervous he'd looked when he'd given it to her – of course, he'd known it was going to be followed by an engagement ring and she hadn't. She sighed, and reached for her phone again, and called Happy.

She was ready to call it a day. The last meeting wasn't _that_ important, really, and her vice presidents could handle it with ease.

OOOOOOO

Pepper slipped silently into the bedroom, and stopped at the doorway, smiling. Looking at her watch, it had been about an hour and a half since she'd spoken to Tony and his sleepy burden, and now, instead of sitting at the desk, Tony and Peter were both in their bed, with Peter sprawled on Tony. One foot was tucked up under Tony's chin, the other resting beside his nose, and there was a pool of drool soaking his t-shirt where the toddler's cheek was resting on his stomach. One arm hanging down on either side, loosely holding onto his living pillow as he dozed on top of Tony. She watched, amused, as the child rose and fell with each breath Tony took, and decided that he must be really tired to sleep with that kind of blanket covering him.

Or so she thought.

She changed into a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt and then slid carefully into the bed, sidling up beside them, but trying not to wake either. When his hand moved to touch hers, though, she knew that he'd probably been on the verge of waking, anyway, and Pepper knew that Tony wasn't a heavy sleeper at the best of times.

"Meeting over?"

"I didn't go," she admitted in a whisper. "I wanted to come home, instead."

"You're the _boss_," he reminded her. "Nothing wrong with that. I can't see him, through the foot in my eye. Is he asleep?"

She turned her head and tilted it a little.

"Yeah. I think so. Did he eat?"

"Macaroni and cheese and hot dogs."

"No ice cream?"

He smiled.

"No."

"Did we learn anything today?"

"He knows our names. And he misses mommy when she leaves him."

"Awww."

"Don't be so surprised," Tony told her, squeezing her fingers. "I miss mommy when she leaves, too."

Pepper chuckled, and would have kiss him, but he was pretty well covered with toddler at the moment, and she didn't want to wake him, as well.

"What are the plans for today?"

"I'm going to go shopping once I make sure you are settled with him – if you don't mind?"

"No. I don't mind. Anything in particular you're shopping for?"

"Just some things Strange and Wong must have glossed over on the list."

"Oh? What could they possibly have missed?"

"Just the _important_ stuff. You'll see."

He closed his eyes, then, after squeezing her hand. He'd had little Peter for a full 24 hours, now, and was already learning that when a toddler sleeps, it was a good idea to sleep, then, too.


	15. Chapter 15

"Where's Tony?"

Pepper looked up from her tablet and smiled at Romanoff.

"He went shopping."

"For what?"

"His exact words were _the most important things_. I have a feeling Peter here is about to get an influx of Ironman things, since there isn't any in his inventory – and plenty of other superheroes."

They both looked down at the boy sitting in her lap. Pepper was sitting on one of the comfortable couches in the lounge, and despite the fact that there was a blanket spread out on the floor at her feet with several toys scattered on it, Peter was in her lap, his hands holding her shirt, his cheek pressed against her breast and the pacifier in his mouth. He hadn't shown any interest in playing. He just wanted to be held. Occasionally, he would turn his head and look up at her, as if making sure she was still the one holding him, and Pepper would brush gentle fingertips along his cheek until he turned his head, again.

"I noticed that." Natasha smirked. "Stephen's brand of humor, most likely."

"I think it's hilarious."

"He doesn't want to play?" the other woman asked, sitting down beside Pepper, smiling at Peter, who held his hand out to her so he could touch her, but tightened his grip on Pepper, making it quite plain that he wasn't ready to be passed around just yet.

"He's been clingy since he woke from his nap."

"Momma's boy."

Pepper nodded. She smiled, at first, and then frowned, though.

"It makes me wonder, though, how much he _does_ remember – even if he doesn't remember specific memories. He's not so clingy with Tony, but he holds tight to me. Do you think he remembers the thing with L-O-K-I trying to mess with his head and make him think I was in danger and it's keeping him close to me?"

Natasha shrugged.

"Probably no way to know for sure," she admitted, brushing her hand against Peter's curls, and smiling when the boy touched her again, the pacifier working furiously, now. "But he _is_ clingy with Tony, too. You probably don't see it like we do. I'll tell you something, though; if he does have any kind of residual memories, all of this has to be pretty scary for him. Bewildering, anyway. You two are doing an amazing job being there for him."

That made Pepper smile and her hold tightened, imperceptibly.

"He makes it easy."

"Makes you think of having one?" Natasha asked, slyly.

"Makes me realize that _Peter_ needs us, now. No matter what age he is. Maybe in a few years, when he's at college and doesn't have to have us right there… we'll see."

OOOOOOO

"Can I help you, sir?"

Tony turned at the question, and nodded to the sales woman.

"Do you have a special section for _Ironman_?" he asked. "What I mean is; he's not just mixed in with all the other superheroes, right?"

The woman frowned, and then realized why she thought she recognized the man standing in front of her in the jeans and sweatshirt.

"You're Tony Stark…"

He smiled, always pleased to be recognized. His ego wasn't anywhere near as terrible as it had been, but it was still there, to a point.

"Guilty."

"You're looking for Ironman things?"

"You know, toys, bedding, clothing – the works. It's for… a _charity_ thing. With Children's Hospital."

"How nice." She smiled at the idea of _the_ Ironman coming to look for his own merchandise instead of sending some lackey to do it for him. "Did you want _Thor_, too? We have quite a selection of him – and Captain America?"

Stark shook his head.

"No. Not _them_. Just Ironman. They can come do their own shopping."

The woman smiled, again, and then gestured toward the bed and bedding dept.

"We could start with sheets, blankets and pillowcases," she suggested, leading the billionaire toward that section of the department store.

"Perfect," Tony said, feeling pretty smug. He'd buyout everything they had, pick out a few pieces of each for Peter, and then have the rest shipped over to the local Children's Hospitals. A two-year-old only needed so many blankets, after all. "Let's see what you have – preferably with a good pose, or some kind of specific landing, that kind of thing…"

She nodded her agreement, and the shopping began in earnest.

OOOOO

It was almost dinnertime when Tony Stark walked into the lounge to find his family. It wasn't hard; there was a blanket on the floor in the corner of the room and Peter was sitting on it, a couple of blocks in his hand, building an ungainly looking pyramid of some kind with Pepper sitting beside him overseeing the work and handing him blocks as needed.

The room was mostly empty – not surprising for the time of day and it being a Friday – but there were a few stragglers. He _didn't_ expect to see Nick Fury sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Pepper, though, also watching the boy's construction project – and holding a large dump truck that had clearly just made a delivery of more blocks.

Pepper and Fury noticed his arrival first, of course, but he was about halfway across the room when Peter did, as well. The toddler dropped the block in his hand and stood up, running over to Tony on his sturdy little legs, making Stark wonder what he ever could have done to make anyone so happy to see him.

"Daddy!"

Tony swept him into his arms and turned him upside down for a moment, knowing it would make him giggle – which it did – and then kissed his cheek noisily as the boy wrapped his arms around his head before clutching the front of his t-shirt.

"There's my big boy," he crooned, hugging Peter, tightly. "Are you keeping mommy company?"

"Yeah. _Momma_."

Peter pointed back toward Pepper. Just in case Tony hadn't seen her.

"Let's go see mommy."

Tony carried him, since Peter's grasp on his shirt made it perfectly clear he wanted to be held, and Stark walked over to the corner of the room, grinning down at the two.

"What are we building?" he asked.

"You'll have to ask _him_," Fury said, standing up, and not looking at all self-conscious for having been caught playing on the floor. "I'm not the _contractor_ – I just deliver the blocks."

Stark leaned over and kissed Pepper, pressing Peter purposely between the two of them until the toddler squirmed to get down. He winked, and set the boy down on the blanket, but instead of going back to his blocks Peter went over and tugged on Fury's leg, holding his arms up to demand a better viewing platform – one that wouldn't smother him.

"Was he good?" Tony asked them as Fury picked Peter up into his arms and the boy started playing with his nose, giggling when the director would make a face every time Peter grabbed it.

"He's an _angel_, Tony," Fury replied. "But I'm late for a flight, so since you're back I'm going to hang up my delivery list and get going."

Fury passed a willing Peter over to Pepper, who wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his face against her, mumbling to himself, contentedly.

"Mommy…"

"Thanks for the company, Nick," Pepper said, sincerely.

"I had a good time. Let me know if he needs anything."

The other man left, and Tony smiled.

"How long has he been playing with you guys?"

"Almost an hour. I gather that he just came looking for you before he was going to leave, but he got caught up in the building project, and he never left."

"That old softie."

She agreed completely, but knew most of the people that Fury came in contact with wouldn't agree.

"Did you find whatever it was you were looking for?"

"I did."

She rolled her eyes at the smug look that was suddenly dominating his expression.

"And…?"

He reached into his back pocket, and held up a small stuffed doll, presenting it to the toddler, who gasped, and took it from him, staring at it.

"Who's that, Peter?" Tony asked.

"_I'nman."_

"That's right. What do you think of _that_?"

Ha! In your _face_, Thor. Stark preened, even when Peter went to put the toy in his mouth and dropped it.

"Shit."

Pepper frowned.

"_Tony…"_

"I didn't teach him that, Pep."


	16. Chapter 16

"Where did you get _that_ goofy looking thing?"

Tony and Pepper looked up at Steve, who had walked over to the table they were sitting at with Peter. The toddler was once more in his high chair, but instead of food, he was playing with his new Ironman doll.

"I started working for him a long time ago, and-"

"He wasn't talking to _you_, Pepper," Stark said, rolling his eyes, amused.

Pepper smiled, winking at Steve, who was also smiling. Rogers turned his attention to Peter, and the boy looked up at him, cheerfully. It was clear he knew Steve and liked him.

"Who is _that_?" he asked.

"I'nman."

Peter held the toy up and Steve took it, dutifully, looking it over. It was a little slobbery – proof that the boy was in the stage where anything went into the mouth for a taste-test, first.

"Where'd you get it?"

_"Daddy."_

Steve gave it back to Peter, who put it in his mouth, again, and watched him as he sat down in one of the empty chairs.

"Where did you find that?" he asked Stark.

"Konrad's," Tony answered, smugly. "In the city."

"They didn't have any _Captain America_ ones?"

"I didn't _look_, Rogers. Peter has sophisticated tastes, after all. I can't go throwing money around on toys that aren't educational."

Pepper tried very hard to hide her snort, but both men looked at her. She cleared the amusement from her expression and pretended to be busy smoothing down Peter's hair.

"Sorry."

"He was playing in the _toilet_," Steve pointed out. "How sophisticated can he be?"

Stark shrugged.

"What can I say?"

_"Shit!"_

Everyone looked at Peter, who had dropped his doll on the floor and was looking at it, clearly trying to figure out why it wasn't flying back up to him. He turned his expression on them, brown eyes wide and innocent.

"Peter," Pepper chided, scowling over at Tony. "We don't say that word."

"_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…"_

"Will you tell Pepper that I didn't teach him that? _Fury_ did."

Steve smiled at Tony, reached down and picked up Peter's doll and stood up.

"I'd _love_ to do that, Tony, but I can't stick around, right now."

"Where are _you_ going?" Stark asked, watching as he handed the doll to Peter, who smiled cheerfully at him.

"I need to go find Natasha."

He left and Tony looked at Pepper, still pretty pleased with himself, despite her annoyed look at Peter's new word. It hadn't been him that taught it to him, after all, and she'd find out the truth, eventually.

"Dinner?"

"Yes."

"Peter? Are you hungry, big guy?"

"_Ice cream!"_

OOOOOO

"What are you going to do with that?" Bruce asked, walking into the lounge just in time to see Tony leaving the bar with a large tray.

There were three plates on it; two with steaks and baked potatoes, and one that had a simple hamburger patty – cut into several small pieces – and a handful of French fries. And a plastic garbage bag.

"We're going to have dinner. I thought you were gone?"

"I'm leaving soon. I meant, what are you doing with the _garbage bag_?"

Stark smiled.

"Watch and see."

He gestured for Bruce to follow him and the two men walked over to the table in the corner, where Pepper and Peter were waiting, watching.

"Hey, Pepper," Bruce said, taking a chair as Tony set the tray down. "How's he doing?"

"He's fine, Bruce."

"_Bruce!"_

Banner smiled at the greeting, and reached out to touch the child's nose, which made Peter giggle.

"So he _does_ know us all," he said, shaking his head. "Clint said he did. Even _Fury_?"

"Yes."

The scientist shook his head, his eyes intent on Peter – who was now watching Tony, excitedly, the Ironman doll in one hand but the other obviously reaching for his dinner. Stark handed him a French fry with a smile.

"What are you going to do if they can't fix him?"

"He's not _broken_, Bruce," Tony said, with a frown.

"You know what I mean."

"We'll worry about that if it comes to it," Pepper told him. "It's only been a couple of days."

"Do we know if there's a time limit?" Bruce asked, curiously. "You know, have him changed back in a week or it's permanent type thing?"

"We don't _know_," Tony admitted, absently, as he was setting Pepper's dinner in front of her, and putting his own off to the side. "But whatever happens, he's _ours_ and we'll take care of him."

"Good answer, Tony," Banner approved. He shook his head, and returned his attention to the garbage bag on the tray. It wasn't a big one, just one like would be used in an office wastebasket. "What are you using the trash bag for?"

Stark looked at Peter and raised his hand – which caused the toddler to do the same. When he did, Tony pulled the sweatshirt and the t-shirt the boy had been wearing off his little body, making Peter smile when Tony leaned over and poked his chubby belly. A moment later, the trash bag was put over his head and Bruce noticed for the first time that there had been a slit cut in the bottom of the thing to allow the boy's head to slip through – and after measuring, two more were made by Tony to allow Peter's arms to be freed. It left Peter wearing a plastic bag.

"It's not flattering," Stark admitted, looking at his handiwork. "But it'll cut down on how much of a mess we have to clean up when we're done eating."

Bruce frowned, looking at the plastic plate that Tony now set on the high chair's tray. He didn't bother with a fork or spoon, since it was all finger food, just then, and Pepper rescued the Ironman doll before Peter could drop it on the floor again to make a grab for a piece of hamburger.

"It's only a burger and fries," he pointed out. "How much of a mess can he _possibly_ make?"

Tony rolled his eyes, and even Pepper shook her head at that question They both knew that answer.

"Stick around, Bruce. You'll see."

OOOOOOO

The saleswoman looked surreptitiously at her watch as she walked up behind the couple that were looking around with a somewhat bewildered aura about them. One she'd seen many times. It was getting close to closing time, but she had no doubt that she could help them find whatever they needed long before it was time to lock the doors and go home for the evening.

"Hello," she greeted them, to avoid startling them since she was coming at them from behind. "Welcome to Konrad's."

The two turned, and she smiled, professionally. They were a handsome couple; he was clean-cut, blonde hair, gorgeous blue eyes and an endearing smile, and she was drop-dead gorgeous, with red hair and classic good looks.

"Yes." The man spoke up, while the woman looked around her, intently. The saleswoman had the feeling that the woman always looked around like that – and not because they were shopping in an unfamiliar store. "I'm looking for Captain America stuff – toys, clothes, shoes – oh! _Shoes_! Do you have any of those shoes that light up when the kid takes a step? Or some that would play music, or something? Like the National Anthem?"

The red-headed woman rolled her eyes, amused, and the saleswoman felt her own grow wide.

"You're Steve Rogers…"

"Yes, ma'am."

"This is amazing. Did you know that _Tony Stark_ was in here, just this afternoon, looking for Ironman merchandise?"

"We _heard_," the red-head told her, and the saleswoman knew she knew who this woman was, as well, but was too stunned by the appearance of two famous people in one day to get her mind wrapped around it. "He told Steve here that there might be a fair selection of Captain America merchandise, as well."

"Of course." She smiled. "Mr. Stark bought everything that had Ironman on it – said he was going to donate it to the Children's Hospital. Is that what _you're_ looking for, as well? Just children's-sized items or products?"

"Children's sized," Steve told her, grinning over at Natasha, who just shook her head. "And maybe something loud and annoying, too."

"Tony's going to _kill_ you," she murmured, as the saleswoman gestured for them to follow her. "You know that, right?"

"Yup."

He didn't look at all concerned.


	17. Chapter 17

The hamburger hadn't been too messy, really. It had been a good idea - and had been Pepper's suggestion. The fries, too, were simple. Some were soggy and only half chewed, but it wasn't too bad. Bruce had watched for a while, but he needed to leave, and told them that he'd see them Monday and told them they knew how to reach him if they needed him.

Tony was feeling pretty impressed with himself. The garbage bag did the trick to keep Peter from being too smeared. Of course, the toddler wanted to try what _they_ were eating, too, once he realized it wasn't the same as what he had on his plate, and several pieces of their dinner ended up on the floor below the high-chair with the chewed up French fries that hadn't made it into his stomach. Peter looked at him, expectantly.

"Ice cream?"

Tony rolled his eyes, well aware that the boy wasn't going to eat it even if he brought him some.

"How about a piece of _cake_?" he asked, picking up pieces of French fry from the table and putting them on his plate since he was done eating.

"Cake!" Peter agreed, nodding, excitedly.

Stark looked over at Pepper.

"Are you finished?"

"Yes, thank you."

She stayed with Peter, wiping his face, and Tony went to the bar to see if they had any cake slices. The bartender didn't, but he _did_ produce a cupcake. Chocolate cake, with white frosting and sprinkles.

"Cut that in half for me, will you?" Stark asked, taking the paper off the treat and handing the bartender a large tip to make up for the mess he was going to end up cleaning once the boy was handed such a potentially messy creation.

With plate in hand, he headed back to the table, and set half of the cupcake on the high-chair tray.

"Give that a try, son," Tony said, reclaiming his chair and offering Pepper the other half of the cupcake.

She shook her head and waved it off, and Tony stuffed his share into his mouth, while Peter grabbed the frosted end of his half and squished it through his fingers before cramming his hand into his mouth with a pleased sound that was muffled by his fingers. They both smiled at the way his face lit up at the taste.

"What is that?" Tony asked him.

_"Cake!"_

"You like it?"

He nodded, and reached for another handful, this time more cake than frosting and crammed that into his mouth, too, smearing frosting all over his face. He didn't necessarily eat his half of the cupcake, but he ended up with most of it either in his mouth or on his face or hands.

"Are we done?" Pepper asked, shaking her head at how messy he'd managed to get in just a few minutes.

"I think so," Stark said, his expression tender when he looked at the boy. "Are you full?"

Peter shook his head, no, smearing cupcake frosting on the tray in front of him.

"Are you still hungry?"

He shook his head, again, and reached for Tony, clearly wanting to get down.

Tony carefully pulled the garbage bag off, and then used a wet cloth Pepper had ready to wipe frosting from his hands and face. Only then did he let the boy out of the high-chair and Peter ran over to the blanket that held the blocks and started playing with them, mumbling to himself as he banged them together and then started stacking.

"That wasn't too bad," Tony told Pepper. "We must be getting better at it."

She smiled at that, and handed him Peter's Ironman doll.

"Good thing we're fast learners."

"Go take a break, Pep," Tony told her, leaning over and kissing her. He'd had a nap, and knew that she hadn't. It was only fair to let her have some time to herself. "I'll stay and play with him, and we'll come find you when it's time to get ready for bed and have a story read to us."

"You don't mind?"

"I don't, and neither does he," Stark assured her, looking over at the boy.

"I'm going to go take a nice, hot, bath," she told him. "Call me, though, if anything happens."

"Will do."

She got up and kissed him, and then left the room before Peter could notice she had left, and Tony waited until she was completely out of the room and then went over and flopped down on the blanket beside Peter, picking up a couple of blocks and started to explain the basic principles of architecture.

OOOOOOO

Pepper had just gotten out of the tub and was changing into comfortable sweat-like pajamas and a long-sleeved t-shirt when she heard a soft chiming coming from the general direction of one of the nightstands. Frowning, she walked over, still drying her hair, and noticed that it was Peter's watch making the noise. She picked it up and saw that it was Ned trying to reach the boy.

Pepper didn't have a communications watch. She didn't really need one, and really didn't want one. If she needed to talk to Tony, she called his phone, and if anything happened, she had Happy, who had an ear bud communicator. The didn't mean that she didn't know how to use one, of course, and she pressed the right button to answer.

"Good evening, Ned."

There was a pause and she smiled because she had no trouble visualizing Peter's best friend's expression as he tried to decide who was on the other end of the call and then wonder why it wasn't Peter answering.

_"Pepper?"_

"Yes, Ned. How are you, tonight?"

_"Oh. I'm good. Thanks. You?"_

"Fine. Looking for Peter?"

_"Yeah. He wasn't in school, and he's not answering his phone. I was worried."_

She hesitated.

"He's alright. We just have a bit of a situation going on."

_"Anything I can help with?"_

"Not right now, unfortunately. You're spending the weekend at your grandparents?"

Which had been the reason that he hadn't been scheduled to come to the compound that weekend. Peter was invited, but Ned's grandparents had a horse farm and Peter and horses were always a bad mix, so he'd politely declined – understandably.

_"Yeah, I'm there, now. If things clear up, would you have Peter call me?"_

"I will," she promised. "Or I'll have Tony tell him."

_"Thanks, Pepper."_

"Have fun, Ned."

They ended the communication and Pepper sat down on the edge of the bed, holding Peter's watch in her hand and looking down at it, comparing the one in her hand to the bracelet that Tony had placed on the wrist of the toddler just that morning. Peter had played with it for a moment, but then when it didn't do anything and didn't respond, he'd promptly forgotten it was there and left it alone. She stared at the watch, running her fingers along the metal, careful not to touch any of the buttons, but wanting the contact with a representation of sixteen-year-old Peter.

"Are you alright?"

Startled, she looked up, realizing that Tony had walked into the room, Peter dozing in his arms. Not so deeply that he didn't wake at the sound of the voice, and jerk his head up, looking somewhat drunk. Pepper nodded, and wiped away moisture that might have suspiciously been salty.

"Yes. Sorry."

Tony walked over and sat down beside her, and Peter crawled from his arms over to her lap.

"_Momma_…" he murmured, softly, burying his face against her breast, sleepily, although Pepper didn't notice, since Tony had pulled her into his arms and was holding her.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he murmured, tucking her head under his chin.

"I'm just worried."

"About P-E-T-E-R?"

"What if Stephen can't find a reversal?" she asked, softly.

"You're worried about being mom to a toddler?"

"No. That's the least of it. I adapted to _you_, I can adapt to him – and I love both of you, no matter how old. But what about his friends? They're going to be old by the time he grows up – _again_. Would he understand? Is there something inside his mind that would know what he was losing? There are just so many questions, and I worry so much about him…"

"It's understandable, Pep," Tony assured her. "And I won't tell you _not_ to worry, but it's only been a couple of days. As much as it pains me to say it, Stephen is at least as brilliant as I am, and the expert in the whole magic thing. Between his smarts and the fact that Wong seems to be able to figure out anything in that library of theirs, they'll find the solution."

She nodded, letting his strength and confidence bolster her, and then suddenly flinched and looked down.

"That _scamp_!"

Tony looked, too, and he smiled when he saw that while she'd been talking to Tony, Peter had tucked his head under her shirt and from her reaction had latched onto her, painfully. He stood up, leaving it to her to free herself from the boy.

"I'll get the pacifier."


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N They're giving Peter milk in his sippy cups, I just didn't write it in, sorry about that. He's just into breasts for the comfort thing, not because he's still young enough to need to nurse. Glad you all are enjoying this story, I'm having fun with it._

OOOOOO

"Stop _pulling_ on him…" Pepper said, with a wince. "Every time you do, he bites down on me."

"Sorry."

Tony let go of Peter, who had his arms firmly around Pepper and was holding tight. Unfortunately, his _arms_ weren't all that had a tight hold on her, and nothing that they'd tried so far had gotten him to let go. They'd put the binky right up against the boy's lips, but he didn't want the pacifier; not when he had the real deal right there in his mouth, and he'd ignored it and simply hung on to Pepper, who would have been laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation – if it had been someone else who had what amounted to a Hoover stuck on her breast just then.

"What does it _say_?" she asked, looking down at the boy, who was pressed right up against her, mumbling to himself and had his eyes closed, blissfully unaware of the fuss he was causing.

"There's nothing about making him let _go_," Tony told her, reading through a baby page on the tablet in his hand. "It just talks about teaching them how to latch on."

"He has that part down," Pepper pointed out, brushing her hand against Peter's cheek, wondering if he she could get him to fall asleep long enough to relax his grip.

"Wait, here we go. Slip one finger in at the side to loosen his grip and then widen his jaw and just pull it out."

Pepper rolled her eyes, realizing that she didn't have the right angle to do all of that.

"A little help?"

"Yeah."

Tony slid his pinky finger into the side of Peter's mouth and jerked his hand back.

"He _bit_ me."

She rolled her eyes, wincing again, since he wasn't the only one who had felt that.

"_Tony."_

"Right. Sorry."

The second time Stark managed to get his finger in at the proper angle and he carefully slid the digit back toward Peter's jaw, opening his mouth a little. It was enough. With a sigh of relief, Pepper pulled herself free, and stuck the binky in Peter's mouth before he could try to renew his grip on her.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, looking down at her, concerned, his hand holding her, carefully, and frowning at the swelling the toddler had left.

"Yes. _Thank you_." She handed Peter over to him and gave herself a quick look, surprised she wasn't bleeding, he'd had her that firmly. "That isn't a problem you run across every day, is it?"

He smiled, relieved that she hadn't been hurt, but also seeing the humor in the situation – now that she was free.

"Could you imagine if we had had to call someone for help? _Stephen_, for example?"

Pepper closed her eyes and shook her head, her face red.

"I don't even want to think about it."

He smiled, looking at the baby, who was reaching for Pepper, wanting to be back with her.

"No, Peter," he said, tenderly. "I think mommy could use a break from you for a minute. That was amazing, Pepper," he told her, sincerely. "It had to hurt like hell and you didn't even raise your voice."

The toddler in his arms wriggled, trying to free himself from Tony to get back into Pepper's lap, and Pepper reached over and took him before he fell. She tucked him right against her, looking down to make sure the pacifier was still in his mouth before she did. It _was_, and Peter was working it idly, bringing his hand up to her breast as he rested his cheek against the same side he'd been holding onto so diligently.

"It wasn't fun," she admitted as Peter gave a great sigh, and watched as Tony reclaimed his spot beside her on the edge of the bed, his hand still pressed against her. "Lesson learned, though."

"We should put out a memo," Stark told her. "Just in case anyone else holds him."

She smiled at that and kissed the top of Peter's head, which made the boy look up at her, his brown eyes filled with adoration.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said, softly, feeling gooey inside and almost tempted to let him have the nipple back if that was what he needed to be happy. _Almost_, but not quite. She tucked him back under her chin, her hand covering the ear that wasn't already pressed against her. "Ned called. Looking for Peter. Said he was worried since he wasn't returning his calls and hadn't been to school. He wanted to check on him."

"Oh." Which explained what had set off the tears and the concern. He held her again. "What did you tell him?"

"That we had a situation. He's used to Avenger situations," she reminded him. "He just asked if there was anything he could do."

"It's amazing what you can get used to, huh?"

"Yes."

"He's at the farm?"

Tony kept track of Ned's schedule when it affected Peter's.

"Yes."

He kissed her temple, and when she turned her head, she kissed her lips, smiling softly at her.

"It'll be okay, Pep. You'll see."

"Promise?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"Absolutely."

Peter chose that moment to shift in her grasp and reach up to touch her cheek, and she hugged him tightly for a moment.

"We should get him bathed and see if he's ready for bed."

"Want me to do it?" Tony offered.

"No, it's alright. We can tag team him."

"_Sure_ you're okay?" he asked, getting up and reaching for Peter so she could get up, too. "Want me to look it over?"

"It's fine, Tony."

"I don't _mind_. I could kiss it. Make it all better."

Pepper rolled her eyes. Boys and boobs. Clint was right.

"Give me the baby. I'm sure you can find some pajamas for him."

She watched as his eyes lit up, and he grinned as he handed her the child and vanished into Peter's room. Pepper pulled the binky and headed for the bathroom with Peter, undressing him and turning the water on in the tub, smiling as she squirted some Ironman Instant Bubble Bath into the water.

"Your daddy's a _little_ crazy, sometimes, isn't he?" she asked the boy, who had been watching the water, excitedly, and hadn't yet noticed that there was now a collection of Ironman bath toys, Ironman toothpaste and toothbrush, Ironman towels and wash cloth and even an Ironman potty, now, instead of the original one that had just been white – although as far as Pepper was concerned, _that_ might be a bit much.

Peter nodded.

"Shit."

She rolled her eyes.

OOOOOOO

The room was dark, except for the light coming from the bathroom – just in case. Tony had Pepper in his arms, feeling pretty smug.

"That turned out well, didn't it?"

"You mean his new Ironman pajamas and Ironman slippers, in his new Ironman sheets and comforter and pillowcase with the Ironman bathrobe – which he'll never wear – and the Ironman teddy bear?"

"I meant the story and him falling asleep during it," Tony corrected. "But, yeah, all of that stuff, too."

She smiled and cuddled against him.

"He looks adorable," she conceded.

And the toddler had been excited about it all, too. Except the bear, which had been tossed aside in favor of the black teddy bear that was now sleeping with him in the other room.

Tony made a pleased noise, and then, for a moment, at least, turned his attention from the boy. There was just a slight sound of the rustle of fabric and a sudden hiss of pain.

"_Found it…"_

"Grow up, Tony," came the amused reply.


	19. Chapter 19

It was late when Stark walked into the lounge. Wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, he was carrying Peter, who was wide awake and holding the Ironman stuffed doll that Tony had given him the day before in an unconscious parody of the way Tony was holding him. The room was empty, which Stark had expected at 3am, but he wasn't there for company – he _had_ company. He was there because Peter had woken him playing in his room in the wee hours and rather than allow him to wake up Pepper, as well, he'd simply scooped the boy into his arms and taken him to the only other place in the compound that had toys for him.

"Here, big guy," Tony said, setting Peter on the floor in the middle of the blanket and then sitting down as well. "What do you want to play?"

Peter walked over to the toybox, wearing a pajama set that had a hood that at the moment wasn't being utilized. Ironman, of course, it looked like one of the earlier versions of the suit and when the hood was up, it was the helmet – at least from the back. Stark Industries was making a killing in licensing for the Ironman brand, and had also taken on the license for the Avengers, Thor, The Incredible Hulk and every other known Avenger – except Captain America, which had been around a lot longer and was owned by an arm of the government. The company lawyers were still working on getting that one and Tony was sure they would, some day.

Not that they needed the money, but it was a good way to keep the Avenger name – and those Avengers under it – from being adulterated by unchecked commercialism. It had been Pepper's idea, and Fury had decided it was a good one, signing all the paperwork needed long before he'd gone into his semi-retirement.

Peter picked up a large round mechanism and carried it over to Tony and plopped himself into Stark's lap with it.

"Cow."

The toy was aptly named a See&Say. It had pictures of various farm animals, and a moveable arrow that would point to each individual animal. Then, when the string was pulled, a disembodied voice would say '_the cow goes moo'_. Or '_the sheep goes baabaa'_. Or whatever animal it was in the picture.

Tony smiled, and pointed.

"That's a _horse_, Peter."

"Horse."

"Good." Tony moved the arrow to the horse picture and pulled the string, and Peter giggled at the sound the horse made.

Now that he knew how to do it, Peter moved the arrows, himself, and pulled the string, repeating the animal sounds over and over, with unlimited patience and enthusiasm. Having found the toy that would occupy the boy, Tony picked up child and toy and carried them both to one of the sofas and got themselves situated a little more comfortably.

"Chicken."

He smiled.

"What does it say?"

"Bawk, bawk."

"That's the best chicken I've ever heard," Tony told him, approvingly, making Peter smile and point to the next creature.

"Jack."

Tony nodded.

"Yeah, that's a dog, alright."

OOOOOOO

"They look comfortable…"

Natasha nodded her agreement, looking at the pair sleeping on the sofa. Technically, Tony was asleep on the sofa, sprawled along the length of it, with his head and shoulders propped up with a cushion against the arm of the furniture. Hanging from his hand, which was over the side of the sofa, was a See&Say, resting on the floor, leaned against the sofa and with Tony's fingers loosely wrapped around the handle.

On his chest, belly down and his cheek against Tony's collarbone, was Peter, who was loosely holding a stuffed Ironman doll and was also asleep, snoring lightly and his arm draped down along Tony's shirt. Pepper pulled out her phone and took a couple of pictures, wanting to save moments like that forever.

"I'll take Peter," Natasha offered. "Why don't you put Tony to bed?"

"You don't mind? He probably won't go back to sleep if we wake him."

She smiled, and shook her head.

"I have the morning free," Romanoff assured her. "And I want to spend time with him, so it's fine if he's awake."

Pepper nodded, and pulled a lanyard from around her neck. At the end was a pacifier and she handed it to Natasha.

"You'll want that, probably."

They walked over and Natasha stepped up, carefully moving Tony's hand from Peter's back, and eased the child out of his arms. Peter didn't even open his eyes when she did; he just cuddled himself against her breast and went right on sleeping. Tony, however felt him leaving his arms and opened his eyes, immediately, still asleep, but automatically worried.

"The cow goes moo…"

Both women smiled, and Pepper put a hand on his chest to get his attention.

"Shhh."

He looked around, rubbing his face and saw Romanoff holding Peter.

"I fell asleep…?"

"It would seem so." Pepper answered, amused. "So did Peter. Let's go back to bed, Natasha is going to watch him for a while."

"I'm okay."

"So is _he_," Pepper assured him, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. "Come on. She knows where to find us if she needs anything."

Natasha nodded her agreement, and looked down at the child in her arms. Yeah, she _knew_, but she was going to keep him for herself for a while. She went over to the bar, graceful normally, but even more since she was trying not to disturb her passenger. She took a couple of fat pretzel sticks – just in case he woke up and needed something to gnaw on – and then went back and sat down on the sofa, taking somewhat close to the same position Tony had, and for the same reason.

It was comfortable, and the position was convenient for holding a sleeping child. Peter mumbled just a little when she settled, his cheek settling on one breast and his hand on the other. Romanoff smiled, thinking of Clint's comment about Peter being a boob guy, but didn't bother to reposition him. If that was what helped him sleep, it wasn't like he was hurting her. Humming softly, mostly to herself, she didn't even bother to pull out her phone, or a book or something. She just held him and spent time with him.

That was one of her favorite things to do, after all. No matter how old he was.

OOOOOOO

The Cloak of Levitation caught her attention, first, moving into the lounge swiftly, and then hesitating at the edge of the sofa Natasha was still lounging on, Peter still asleep in her arms. She watched it, amused, thinking that if a piece of magical fabric could look uncertain, it certainly was looking that.

"He's asleep," she murmured to it. "If you want to cuddle him, you can, but if I hand him over to you, it'll wake him up…"

She'd heard about Tony's tug-of-war with Peter over the relic, after all.

"Does Tony know you've Shanghaied his boy?" Stephen asked, softly, joining her at the sofa just as the cloak settled itself over Peter's sleeping form.

Clearly it wanted to cuddle with him more than it was worried about being grabbed, again.

"He's in bed, still," Romanoff told him, smiling a welcome since her hands were full and now were also covered by the cloak, so she couldn't touch him. "You're up early."

"I'm up _late_," he corrected, leaning over cloak and baby in order to kiss her, lightly, before sitting next to her, lifting her legs up until he was in his spot and then putting them across his lap, and then tucking his hands under the cloak and on her leg. Clearly, he was in no hurry to leave, if he was settling in for a while. "Wong and I might have a lead, so we've been in the library all night. I decided to take a break and see you."

"Or you wanted to see _Peter_…" she said.

He gave her a look that told her she was crazy, and shook his head.

"Seen one 2-year-old, you've seen them all."

Which told her that her guess was correct.

"You thought he'd be up by now," she accused. "And you were hoping for a chance to spend time with him."

"You're crazy," he scoffed.

"Crazy _right_."

He rolled his eyes.

"How long have you been holding him?"

"About an hour. He'll probably wake up, any time, now."

"Well, I'll probably stick around. Just to see how he's doing. For _research_."

"Right…" The assassin was far too adept at reading people – even him – to buy that, but he knew, and he didn't care. "What kind of lead did you find?"

"Something out of China," he said, sliding a hand casually under the cloak toward the baby she was holding and touching his foot, lightly, careful to keep her from noticing under all the fabric of the cloak. "A rumor about the fountain of youth."

"Like the one Ponce de Leon was looking for in Florida in 1513?" she asked.

He nodded, not at all surprised that she knew that. Natasha Romanoff was brilliant, he knew.

"The same – only rumors about the fountain go back much further – and they are from every corner of the world. Which leads us – Wong and myself, in this case – to believe that the youth isn't generated from an actual fountain, or a spring, but possibly from a relic." He had Peter's foot, now, and was shaking it, lightly. "It's just a beginning," he admitted with a shrug. "But it's a start."

"It's something," Natasha said, approvingly, turning her attention to Peter, who had lifted his cheek from her breast and was looking around. "Hey, baby…"

Peter gave her a sleepy smile, and grabbed a handful of the cloak while turning and looking over his shoulder at Strange, who also smiled.

"Well," he said, nonchalantly. "Since he's awake, why don't you hand him over to me? For _research_."

She rolled her eyes and the cloak moved, slightly, still in the toddler's clutches and still hovering close enough to be in contact with him. Natasha handed Peter over to Strange, and to their surprise he went back to sleep, nestled warmly between the magician and the cloak.

"Looks like you're stuck with him for a while," she told him.

He gave her an annoyed look, but she wasn't fooled for a moment.

"I'll want to stick around to tell Pepper and Tony what we've got so far," he said. "It won't hurt to hold him for a while."

"For _research_?"

"Right."


	20. Chapter 20

Peter didn't sleep long.

When he woke little more than half an hour after transferring from Natasha's arms to Stephen's, he looked around, sleepily, smiled at Natasha and promptly demanded ice cream.

"He's probably hungry," she said, amused when the cloak slid out of the boy's reach before he was awake enough to realize it was there and grab it. Instead it hovered just out of reach, probably waiting, Romanoff decided, to see if the child was in a grabby mood or if it would be safe to cuddle with him. "I'll get him something to tide him over."

Strange smiled at the boy and an apple sauce pouch appeared in the doctor's hand in front of the boy. He opened it and handed it over to Peter, who stuck the end up his nose the first few tries, but finally figured out the packaging, content to sit on Strange's lap, leaning with his back against Natasha's legs, which were still on the magician's thighs.

While he ate his treat, Stephen studied him, carefully, amused that Peter seemed to be watching him, just as intently.

"I'll bet he felt the magic," Natasha said, repeating her theory from before that Peter was still sensitive to the magic going on around him when Strange or the cloak were nearby.

"You might be right." He tucked his hand out of sight of Peter and made a granola bar appear in the hidden hand. Peter cocked his head at the same moment, as if listening to something only he could hear. Strange unwrapped the breakfast bar and handed it over, taking the mostly empty applesauce pouch. "Where did Tony find the Ironman pajamas?"

She grinned and brought the doctor up to speed on the first volley of what was going to be an epic duel. Ironman vs Captain America, to see who could find the best outfit for the toddler to wear.

"Steve bought the Captain America merchandise down to the last pair of earmuffs. He picked out what he wanted to save for Peter, here, and then had the rest sent to wherever Tony had had the Ironman things sent – a children's hospital. He probably would have brought home more, but we were in my car."

Strange was about to say something, but then he smiled instead, his intense gaze going toward the entrance to the lounge.

"Speak of the devil."

Coming through the doorway, dressed casually due to it being Saturday morning, Steve Rogers hesitated only for a moment, and then headed their direction once he noticed them.

"Good morning," he told the adults, his attention immediately going to Peter, who looked up at him and smiled, happily. "Hey, Peter, buddy. How's my favorite little guy doing this morning?"

A finger on the tip of his nose made the boy giggle.

"What are you up to this morning, Steve?" Natasha asked, amused. "Or do I _need_ to ask?"

"You don't," he said. "Where's _Tony_?"

"Still in bed, I think. Where's _Jack_?"

"Went with Clint last night when he went home. Peter? Want to come hang out with Uncle Steve for a while, before daddy comes looking for you?"

Since the offer included Steve holding his hands out to the boy, Peter reached for him, and allowed Rogers to pluck him from Strange's lap.

"How far away are you going?" Romanoff asked. "Just in case Tony comes looking for him."

"We won't be long. No further than my quarters. Tell him we'll be right back."

She rolled her eyes and the two watched as Steve carried a more than willing Peter out of the lounge.

"You're going to wait for Tony?" she asked Stephen, stretching, languidly, now that neither of them had Peter to worry about dropping.

"Yes."

"Breakfast?"

He nodded.

"An offer I can't refuse."

OOOOOOO

Tony and Pepper joined them at the table where they were eating breakfast not much later. Stark frowned when Natasha told him that she didn't have Peter and he'd been snatched up by Steve, who'd told her that he wanted to spend some time with the boy, but he didn't look worried. If he could trust anyone with Peter – young Peter or teenaged Peter – it would be Steve. The guy was _Captain America_, after all, and was pretty much in charge of the security of the compound. Peter was in good hands.

Ten minutes into their first cup of coffee, Romanoff turned toward the lounge entrance and smiled. Strange and Pepper followed suit, but Tony had his back to the door and had to turn and look over his shoulder. Steve was walking into the room, wearing blue jeans and a light blue sweatshirt. Tucked into one arm, his bottom resting easily on Steve's forearm and grinning happily, was Peter.

Stark formed.

"What is he wearing?"

The boy had lost the Ironman pajamas and had been put into a pair of blue pull up pants and a long-sleeved sweatshirt that looked suspiciously like a Captain America uniform from way back when. He had on new red, white and blue tennis shoes and the topper was that he was carrying a shield in his hands. A shield almost as large as he was that was an exact replica of Steve's famous one, only instead of Vibranium, this one was obviously light and made of the same material that Nerf used for all of their toys.

"Oh, he looks _adorable_," Pepper said, smiling at the two of them as they walked over. She held her arms up and Steve handed her over, his expression smug as he pulled up a chair. "Hi, sweetheart," Pepper crooned, trying to juggle toddler and shield, but finally setting the shield on the table.

"Momma…" Peter pressed his cheek against her breast, but turned, excitedly, toward Tony.

"Who dressed you in that?" Tony asked him, trying to look annoyed but unable to pull off any such expression when looking at the boy.

"Steve Ame'ica."

"And who are you supposed to _be_?" Steve asked Peter, winking at Romanoff.

"_Peter_ Ame'ica!"

Pepper snorted, and hugged him close, but Steve wasn't finished, yet.

"Show them your new shoes, Peter," he suggested.

They all looked and Peter held up a foot, showing off the new footwear. Then the boy wriggled, clearly wanting to get down, and Pepper set him on the floor, where he stomped his foot, looking down at it. After a little stretching, or straining or craning their necks, all of the adults at the table saw that every time Peter stepped his foot down the heel of the shoes and the sides would flash either red, or white, or blue.

"Those are cute," Natasha said, smiling at the way Stark rolled his eyes at the display. "Let's see…"

Peter took several steps away from them, looking down at his feet and trying to see the lights coming on.

"I was looking for some that played music," Steve told them. "But that was all they had."

"I think they're adorable," Pepper said, watching as Peter walked away, stomping his feet purposefully and watching as they lit up. "Watch out, Pet-"

The boy wasn't paying attention to where he was going, of course, and turned his head back – just in time to run face first into the very solid wooden corner of the bar. He fell backwards onto his rear with a solid plop.

Steve looked chagrined as Pepper got to her feet, immediately.

"He'll need a little practice," he told Tony.


	21. Chapter 21

"Is he alright, Stephen?"

Strange nodded, looking down at the child that had been put in his lap and was now watching him as he wiggled his fingers in front of the boy's face, watching his eyes – which were bright and cheerful.

"He's _fine_, guys."

Peter hadn't even cried when he'd gone down. Too startled, most likely, and cheerful enough by nature that he wasn't going to cry just to get attention. Of course, the doctor thought when he looked at the small crowd of Avengers watching him, Peter didn't _need_ to cry to get attention. He had all the people around him ready to hold him and love him whenever he needed it. Himself included, if he had to admit it – and a magical relic that was hovering from his collar, watching as well – but keeping carefully out of reach.

"No _blood_?" Tony asked, almost in disbelief.

Understandable considering teen Peter's track record.

Strange shook his head and picked Peter up, handing him to Pepper.

"Not even a mark."

He watched as Pepper put a pacifier in Peter's mouth and then tucked the boy up against her, cuddling him. Peter accepted the loving, resting his cheek against her breast and watching Strange.

"You have some information, Stephen?" Tony asked, his eyes still on the child, but a coffee cup in hand, now, reassured that no harm had come to Peter.

"Not a lot," Strange admitted, a cup of coffee appearing on the table in front of Steve, who nodded his appreciation and settled in to hear what the sorcerer had to say. "Wong was in China, looking for any kind of references for de-aging spells, or accounts in their records."

"Why China?" Stark asked, curiously.

"Traditionally, as far as records from _Earth_, China's sanctum has more ancient records. It's the only place that actually has the actual location of the lost continent of Atlantis, for instance – although all of the sanctums have mention of it in many records. They also have more oral histories from antiquity, so we have a broader base to compare."

"You're focusing on Earth based relics, for now?" Steve asked.

"We are. Only because of the four items that were in the area of the explosion that the cloak pointed out to us, three were either formed on the earth, or have been on the earth long enough to have garnered legends or myths. In this case, the fountain of youth."

"Like the one in Florida?" Pepper asked, brushing her hand against Peter's hair, causing him to sigh, happily, and close his eyes.

"Right. There are legends that go back to ancient Greece, and even some places in Africa, about a magical spring where the waters will make people young, again. Obviously, springs don't travel around, so you can understand how we decided fairly quickly that it's not actually a body of water being referenced in the stories."

"You think the fountain of youth is a magical object?" Stark asked.

"That's the direction we're leaning," he answered. "We're not sure, yet, of course, but it only makes sense. It could be a book, with a spell in it that a person has to read, or a piece of jewelry that has to be worn – or even a cup that you drink a certain potion out of. We have one of each, so there's still a ways to go – and obviously, we're not enthralled of the idea of self-experimentation."

"_Baby_ Stephen might be fun," Natasha said, impudently.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"I'd be insufferable," the doctor assured her.

"Thanks, Stephen," Tony told him, leaning back in his chair. "Thank Wong, too, will you?"

"Of course." The sorcerer stood up. "I should probably get back to the sanctum. Do you need anything before I go?"

"No." Stark looked at the child in Pepper's arms. "It's going to be a stay at home weekend for us. The last thing we want is Peter out in the big wide world, right now."

The little boy lifted his head at the sound of his name and stretched his arms to Tony, apparently deciding it was time for a change of location.

"I'm sure you can find something to occupy him here," Strange agreed, watching as Peter settled on Tony's lap, turned around so he could watch the others, but hitting his shoes on the table to make them light up.

Steve looked fairly smug.

"We're going to play in the pool, after breakfast. If you get bored, come find us."

"Thanks."

He wouldn't get that bored.

The sorcerer supreme vanished, taking his magical cloak with him. Stark looked at the others.

"Breakfast?"

OOOOOOO

They stripped Peter down to his pull-up to eat. Not to protect his clothing, since Tony had mentioned that it would be too bad if his new Captain America outfit was stained but it wouldn't be the end of the world, but because they had already learned that it was a lot easier to clean him when he wasn't wearing anything. Which was probably a good idea, since breakfast had been scrambled eggs and toast with a little jelly for added sweetness.

By the time they were done eating, Peter had pieces of toast stuck in his hair and had screamed in frustration when his sippy cup had been stuck to his hand and he couldn't get it free. The adults had managed to avoid getting too messy; they were learning how to make sure he ate without showering them too much, but it was still a messy process by every stretch of the word.

"What are you guys doing today?" Stark asked Natasha and Steve as he tried to get the washcloth that Pepper had brought him out of Peter's hand so he could wash the boy's sticky face.

"I have some errands to run," Romanoff replied, reluctantly. She would have much rather played in the pool with Peter and the others, but some of the places she needed to visit weren't open every day – and one was a specialty shop that only opened on Saturday morning. "I'll be back some time after lunch."

Peter offered the washcloth to her, which made Tony roll his eyes in mock annoyance and Natasha smile. She took it and pretended to wash her face, before handing it over to Stark.

"I'll be around," Steve told Tony and Pepper. "I'm not going to swim, but if something comes up and you need me to watch him – or do something – let me know. Since Clint's kids are watching Jack, I'm free for whatever you might need."

The two left the lounge, then, clearing all the dishes before doing so to make it easier on the weekend staff, and Tony washed the jelly and eggs off Peter's face.

"Do you want to go swimming?" he asked the boy.

"Swim!" Peter agreed, cheerfully.

Stark pulled him out of his highchair and hugged him, not caring if he got a little messy in the process. It was a fair exchange.

"Let's see if mommy can find those Ironman swimming trunks and floaties that I got you, okay?"

Peter wriggled, excitedly, and Pepper smirked, amused.

"I think Steve picked up some Captain America pool toys," she said, picking up the discarded clothing from the table, and making sure to grab the shield so it wouldn't be misplaced. "We could take them with us."

Tony frowned.

"They had _pool_ toys?"

He'd missed that, somehow.

She laughed.

"Come on, Ironman. We need to get that jelly out of his hair before he can go into the pool."

"Coming, dear."


	22. Chapter 22

"Are you ready?"

Peter nodded, looking excited.

"Got your floaties?"

The little boy held up his arms, the Ironman themed floatation devices firmly attached to his upper arms where they would keep him from sinking in the pool if for some reason one of them lost their grip on the toddler.

"Got your swim trunks?" Pepper asked, smiling.

Peter pointed at the Ironman swimming diaper that Tony had put on him. Basically a pull-up, but designed for the water, so it wouldn't get soggy and fall off.

"Towel?"

Peter held up the Ironman towel, still smiling excitedly. He liked the game they were playing, obviously.

"Flip-flops?"

Peter held up his foot, while Tony scowled. The boy had taken off the Ironman ones that he'd initially put on his feet and had put on the Incredible Hulk slippers, instead, and had given Stark a powerful dose of his large, sad, eyes when he'd been told that those weren't for going to the pool. So Tony had shrugged and allowed him to keep them on, which had earned him a happy smile.

"I think you're _ready_, then."

_They_ were, too. Both dressed in swimwear, with towels in hand and robes on to keep from getting chilled walking to the pool, since they'd decided it would be easier to get Peter in his swimming things in their quarters rather than do it in one of the locker rooms or by the pool where he might be too distracted and squirming to allow them to get him properly set up.

Peter nodded and started toward the door, looking down at his feet while he walked, as if admiring his slippers. Tony rolled his eyes at Pepper's amused look and the two of them caught up with him and each took one of his hands, keeping him between them but allowing him to walk if that was what he wanted. Which he _did_. He would walk a few steps and then jump, held tightly in control by their firm grips on him since even at two, Tony and Pepper could both feel the extra power in the little body between them and kept tight hold on him to keep him from hurting himself.

OOOOOO

"This will be interesting," Tony murmured to Pepper when they reached the pool.

It was fairly empty at that time of day and week, with everyone off doing other things instead of lap swimming. The hot tub, which was nearby, did have a few people lounging in it, talking to each other, and they waved at Stark and Pepper but simply watched with interest as the two of them walked with Peter to the edge of the shallow end of the pool – which was still well over the toddler's head – still holding his hands, firmly.

"Why?" Pepper asked, curiously.

"Because when we first met, Peter was _afraid_ of the water," he reminded her. "It was swimming lessons with Clint that got him over that. It'll be interesting to see how he does."

She smiled, looking down at the boy, who was jumping around between them, eagerly, his eyes on the water in front of them.

"Hold him and I'll get in first."

Pepper took off the robe and set it and the towel on one of the benches that lined the far side of the pool, then she slid gracefully into the water. Tony sat Peter on the same bench and knelt down in front of him so he could pull the slippers off, watching the boy's expression as he did.

"Are you excited?"

Peter nodded.

"Yes."

Tony smiled, seeing teen-aged Peter in those intelligent eyes, and understanding why Pepper had been so overwhelmed, earlier, when she had been holding him after talking to Ned. He felt a surge of love welling up inside him and hugged the boy, kissing his cheek.

"I love you. You _know_ that, right?"

He felt the boy kiss him back and the little arms going around his neck, and after a moment simply scooped him up into his arms and carried him over to the water's edge, where Pepper was waiting. Then Tony set him on his feet in front of him, and double checked the fit of the floaties and let him go. Pepper held her arms out when he did.

"Coming?"

Peter didn't hesitate. He jumped into the pool with a giggle, gasping when his head went under the water – which made both of them panic – but then smiling as Pepper grabbed him at the same time the floaties brought him right back to the surface. Obviously, he wasn't afraid of the water. He let her draw him up against her but then launched himself out of her arms before she could get a good hold on his wet body and squealed with glee, splashing the water around him.

"I guess that answers _that_ question, doesn't it?" Pepper asked Tony when he joined her in the water, reaching for Peter to drag him closer to them.

"Without question," he replied, letting the boy climb up onto his shoulders, holding tightly to his hair for balance until he was ready to jump off Tony and back into the water. "On the plus side, he's going to wear himself out a lot faster this way than if we just carried him around the pool."

A tired toddler was a _napping_ toddler.

It was becoming their mantra.

OOOOOOO

"So we can rule out the chalice?" Strange asked Wong.

The other man nodded.

"I think so. It doesn't fit any of the known records for the fountain of youth." He picked up some notes from earlier research. "It was in a monastery in Tibet for centuries at the same time there is an oral history from southern Japan that says a pilgrimage to a temple in the mountains there transformed an elderly shaman into a young man, again."

"And I have records of the thing in Budapest while someone in Peru was drawing on a piece of stone in a cave a pictogram of a similar transformation after a sacrifice to an ancestor's spirit."

"Yeah." Wong sighed. "It still isn't much, is it? Even if we can figure out what caused Peter to change, we have to find a way to change him back."

"We find the right relic, we can figure out the cure," Strange told him, confidently.

"How does he seem to be doing? Do you see any sign that he remembers who he should be?"

"I didn't when I was at the compound this morning," he replied. "He's happy and he's healthy. But I'd like to see him back to his older version. If only because he's a bit less messy at sixteen than he is, now."

"Preferably before Tony and Pepper get married in June," Wong added with a sly glance over at his friend.

"That would definitely cramp their _honeymoon_, wouldn't it?"

The two men smiled at that, and feeling a little less disheartened about the long road ahead of them, they went back to their research.

OOOOOOO

"Do you have him?"

Tony nodded.

"Yeah. Go ahead and go get changed," he said, the sleeping toddler in his arms, his chin resting on Tony's shoulder, water from the pool still dropping from his wet curls and trailing down Stark's back. "When you're ready, we'll wake him up to wash him off and change him into something he can sleep in, and then I'll get showered, too."

Pepper did just that, washing the chlorine from the pool off her body and out of her hair, quickly drying herself and getting into sweats and a t-shirt. Then she went into Peter's room and found his Captain America outfit, smiling when she did because she could already see the look on Tony's face when she out it back on the toddler. It was perfect for sleeping, though, being comfortable and warm, and it wasn't dirty, so why not?

Peter did wake when Tony stripped him out of his swim trunks and carried him into the shower with him, once Pepper was done. He made sure that there wouldn't be any itchy chemicals left on the toddler's delicate skin and crooned gently to the boy while he washed his hair, determined to keep him sleepy, if he could. When he handed Peter over to Pepper, who wrapped him in a big, fluffy towel, the boy was still awake, but Tony was pretty sure he was fighting a losing battle to stay that way.

"Anything you need to do?" he asked her when he came out of the bathroom and into their bedroom a short time later, drying himself. "I can watch him sleep if you need a break."

Pepper shook her head, admiring his body while she finished putting Peter's blue socks on. The boy hadn't made it beyond getting dried off before he'd gone back to sleep.

"I'm thinking he has the right idea. You?"

"If you're going to stay with him, then I'll go take care of a few things and come join you when I'm done." He walked over, with just the towel wrapped around his waist and kissed her. "And don't think I didn't notice the Captain America outfit…"

Pepper smiled, nudging Peter's lower lips with a pacifier, which caused him to wake up just long enough to take it, his eyes closing almost immediately with a deep sigh of contentment.

"Why do you think I put it on him?"

He rolled his eyes and found something to wear, while Pepper settled into the middle of the bed, tucking Peter up beside her before covering them both with a blanket, since they were still damp. Tony watched as the toddler sleepily found his favorite place against her breast and went back to sleep once more, with Pepper not far behind, now that she was relaxed and warm, too.

He tucked the blanket around her, and left them to their nap.


	23. Chapter 23

Tony was in their bed when Pepper woke from her nap. He was on the other side of Peter, sleeping fairly soundly from the looks of it. Peter _wasn't_ asleep. He was on his side, facing Pepper but his eyes were open and he was watching her. She smiled, and reached her hand out to touch his soft cheek.

"Hi, sweetheart."

The boy didn't smile, but his eyes lit up, cheerfully, and he scooted closer to her, and her arm, which had slackened its grip on him while she'd slept, once more came around him.

"Is he ready to get up?" Tony asked, softly, without opening his eyes.

"Probably. Finish your nap. We'll go play in the lounge and when you're ready, you can come find us."

He nodded, and blindly reached out, touching first Peter, and then finding her hand.

"I won't be long."

"We'll be fine," she assured him, sitting up and taking the blankets that had been covering her and Peter and draping them over Tony, now.

She leaned over and kissed him, and Peter stood up and leaned on him and did the same, pacifier still in his mouth and poking Tony's still closed eye. He responded by wrapping his arms around the little boy and sweeping him off his feet to tuck him against his side and then blowing a raspberry into his cheek, causing Peter to giggle around the pacifier.

"You're going to go hang out with mommy for a while, okay?" he told the boy, still holding him.

"'kay."

"And then we will have lunch and go try out your new car." He looked up at Pepper. "I charged the batteries on all three – he can decide which one he likes best and go from there."

She reached over at took Peter from his arms.

"Go back to sleep."

He mumbled something almost unintelligible and did just that, while Pepper carried Peter out of their bedroom and quietly closed the door behind them.

OOOOOOOO

It was around lunchtime when Stark walked into the lounge looking for his family. He found them in the lounge, but not on the blanket in the corner where he expected them. Instead, they were at a table, Pepper sitting in a chair, with Steve sitting with them, and Peter _standing_ on a chair so he could reach the table as well. All three were playing with brightly colored modeling clay.

Pepper was sculpting a horse – or maybe a pony, it was hard to tell – and Steve was almost finished with a fairly impressive representation of Mount Rushmore. Peter had a glob of four different clays in front of him and was cheerfully mumbling to himself while he was forming it.

Tony walked over, smiling a greeting at all of them, but then looking at the clay in front of Peter.

"What are you making?"

"Rock."

Tony looked at it.

"You're making a _rock_?"

"Yes."

"I think it's a great looking rock," he said, well aware that it didn't take a lot of skill to sculpt a rock – but Peter was _two_, so he couldn't expect the Mona Lisa from him, just yet. He looked over at Pepper and Steve. "Are we ready for lunch?"

"We've just been waiting on you."

OOOOO

It was raining fairly steadily outside by the time they finished a lunch of chicken nuggets and corn on the cob – which was a lot messier than Stark had expected it to be, but it _did_ get Peter out of his now corn and butter smeared Captain America outfit and into a clean _Ironman_ one, instead. Rather than play with the battery powered car in the field where they probably would have worked exceptionally well, Pepper and Tony took him to the gym, instead, and turned the boy loose on the cars, letting him choose which one he preferred.

After almost an hour of driving himself into the walls and the bleachers, he was given a little miniature golfing set, and he and Tony spent another forty minutes whacking nerf balls around the gym with toddler-sized golf clubs made of soft plastic. Pepper sat on the bleachers and watched, taking a few pictures, and just relaxing – and occasionally dodging a stray golf ball. Steve had excused himself after lunch, but Pepper wasn't the only one to notice when Natasha walked into the gym, looking around and amazed at how much clutter one little kid could make.

"Na'asha!"

Dropping his club, the toddler hurried over to her, arms up in greeting, and she swept him into her arms, smiling.

"Hi, baby," the assassin crooned, leaning them both over and kissing him soundly. "Are you golfing with daddy?"

"Yeah."

"Who's winning?"

"It'll be a cold day before a_ 2-year-old_ beats me on the links," Stark assured her, picking up Peter's club and looking at the mess in the gym. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah, thanks. It's raining outside." She kissed Peter, again, and started to put him down, but he clung to her, tightly, clearly ready to be cuddled. "How did he do in the pool?"

Obviously she had considered the same thing that Tony had, when it came to Peter and the water.

"He was fine." Stark held his hands out to the boy, who shook his head and buried his face in the front of Natasha sweater. "Didn't even freak when his head went under."

"Why don't you let me have him for a while?" Romanoff offered – since she wasn't going to be able to loosen his grip without a struggle, anyway. "We'll go read a book or something, and give you two a chance to have some alone time."

"Or it will give _Tony_ a chance to clean up this mess that they made," Pepper added, smiling sweetly at Stark, who rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Natasha, we accept."

Besides, she noticed the tight grip Peter had as well, and knew if he didn't want to let go of Natasha, he wasn't going to.

"Say bye, baby," Romanoff told him, waving at Tony and Pepper.

"Bye…"

"Dinner at six?" she verified.

"Sounds right."

"We'll meet you in the lounge, then."

Peter waved, again, as she carried him off.

"You're really going to make me clean this by myself?"

"Of course not. But you're going to _owe_ me."

"Fair enough."

OOOOOOO

"Now, sit right there for a minute, okay?"

"'kay."

She plopped Peter down on her bed where she could keep an eye on him, and changed from the thick sweater that she'd been wearing while out in the chilly day, into a loose-fitting long-sleeved t-shirt and sweats. Peter watched her, holding onto one of the teddy bears that lived in her quarters, and held up his arms to her once she was finished, ready to demand her attention once more.

"You might be a little _spoiled_, Peter Parker," she murmured, softly, to him, burying her face into his neck and kissing the tender skin there, which made him giggle.

"Yeah."

She laughed, fairly certain that he didn't know what he was agreeing to and hugged him.

"Want to read a book?"

"Yeah."

"The _calendar_?"

"Yeah."

"_Time Machine?"_

"Yeah."

"Ingredients on the shampoo bottle?"

He smiled, and buried his head in her collarbone.

"Yeah."

Proving that he didn't care what they read together, he had just wanted to be with her. Which made her smile, softly, because his teen-age self was the same way. Natasha picked up a Russian novel she was reading with the hand not supporting him against her, and carried him to the sofa. She was ready for a little quiet time, and he was one of her favorite people, too, no matter what age he was. She sat down, sideways, on the sofa, using the arm as a backrest, and positioned him against her, smiling down at him when he put his hand on her breast.

"No pacifier, baby," she told him. "I forgot to get it from Pepper. You don't need it right now, though, right?"

"Yeah."

He sat in her lap, playing with her shirt, while she rubbed his back gently with one hand and held the book with the other. Reading it aloud – in Russian – she figured it would put him to sleep, or at least relax him enough to make a fairly easy evening for Tony and Pepper, who were doing a great job with him, as far as she was concerned.

Romanoff looked down when Peter flipped up her shirt, and smiled, holding it over his head so he couldn't see her, and then flipping it up again so he could.

"Peek-a-boo, Baby," she cooed.

He giggled, and put his head under her shirt, again, and she grinned when she felt his nose running against her stomach, hoping he wasn't using her as a tissue to cure a runny nose. Not at all self-conscious about having him playing in her shirt, she shifted him just a little and went back to her reading. Whatever kept him happy and out of mischief, really, was fine with her, Besides, he was _two_. It wasn't like he was _groping_ her, after all – although she did smile and reached under her shirt when she felt him pulling her bra down.

"Hey, now," she told him, realizing what his intended target was – _too late_. "Don't prove Clint right and-"

The words were cut off when she felt him latch onto her, and Natasha gasped in surprise, the book falling to the floor.

"Peter!"


	24. Chapter 24

Stephen Strange responded to Natasha's communication almost immediately. He materialized in the hall outside Peter's quarters – _without_ the cloak, since he didn't want to have a wrestling match with the boy to get the relic back from him just then. Besides, it wasn't Peter he was coming to see, so he didn't need to know where the boy was. It had been Natasha who had called, asking for assistance with an unnamed problem.

He walked over to the door next to Peter's and knocked, politely, and heard her call for him to enter. Which he did.

"I'm sorry it took a little longer than I meant for it to," he said, closing the door behind him. "I was- what in the world…?"

She was sitting on the sofa, an expression on her face that was a mixture of amusement and chagrin – and maybe something else he couldn't read. He had to admit that Natasha was one of the few people that he couldn't read all the time – and knew it was because of her past. He didn't mind. She was exotic and a mystery to him and that was one of the reasons he loved her.

Sitting on her lap, a chubby leg on either side of her torso, with his head under the loose shirt she was wearing was Peter. At least, Strange assumed from the little legs and one arm sticking out from the hem that it was Peter.

"I thought he was playing peek-a-boo," she said. "Next thing I know, he's stuck to me and every time I try to pull him off, he clamps down."

He smiled. He couldn't help himself, even though he knew she probably didn't see the humor in the situation.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Stephen. Just help me get him off, will you? Preferably before anyone comes looking for him. I don't need this bandied about."

Of course. And with good reason, since there was a high probability that Clint or Steve – and maybe Tony – would never let her hear the end of it, and there were all kinds of one-liners that he could think of right off the cuff. If they had a chance, they would almost certainly come up with better ones.

The sorcerer stepped up to the couch and crouched down beside her. He reached out for the lump under her shirt, and then hesitated.

"Do you mind if I take a look?" he asked, politely.

She rolled her eyes.

"No."

Strange gently lifted her shirt, revealing Peter, who was leaning contentedly against Natasha, a hand tangled in her bra and his mouth firmly attached to her breast. The boy looked over at him and his mouth moved a little, eliciting a slight intake of breath from Natasha at the action.

"Hey, kid," the doctor said, smiling at the craziness of the situation. "You're in my spot."

Natasha chuckled, despite herself, and Strange winked up at her. A pacifier appeared in his hand, and he pressed it lightly against the side of Peter's mouth, but the boy wasn't having any of that.

"I tried my _finger_," she said. "He wasn't impressed."

"I can understand his reasoning," he agreed. "How long has he been like this?"

"About forty-five minutes, now. Tell me that there's a trick to this? Or do I have to wait until he falls asleep?"

"Sleeping babies will still latch onto a nipple," Strange told her. "It's instinctive. And the comfort it provides them is probably the reason he's doing it in the _first place_. It might just be some kind of coping mechanism for when things get too crazy for him. I'm assuming from my own experience that he isn't getting any nourishment from it."

She ignored that comment – although it did make her smile, _briefly_, before she looked down at the toddler, concerned, now.

"Do you think he's alright in there?"

"He looks pretty happy, right now," he said. "And yes, there _is_ a trick to getting him to let go," he told her.

He demonstrated what to do, and with a sigh of relief Romanoff found herself freed, and Peter promptly found his mouth filled with the pacifier, instead. His brown eyes filled, but he didn't scream about the replacement. He just buried his face against her collarbone and tightened his grip on her bra, as if he was afraid he was going to be moved from her lap, completely.

"Thank you, Stephen," Natasha said, sincerely. "I don't have to tell you that I'd rather not have this spread?"

He shook his head.

"I won't tell anyone." She'd kill him, he was sure – and he'd probably deserve it. "Let me make sure he didn't hurt you."

With only somewhat clinical detachment, Strange examined her quickly, and was surprised that there was very little swelling. The toddler was clearly not trying to hurt her. An icepack appeared in his hand, causing Peter to tilt his head and turn to look at him.

"For any pain."

"Thank you."

He smiled and leaned over and kissed her, lightly.

"You're welcome. Do you need anything?"

"No. You'll be by later?"

"Either tonight, or tomorrow, early."

The doctor vanished, and Natasha looked down at Peter, who had turned his face up to hers at the doctor's departure, confirming to her that he felt the magic. His brown eyes met hers, and she shifted him so she could brush a kiss against his cheek.

"It's going to be fine, baby," she murmured to him, turning him so she could meet his gaze. "You'll see."

The sad expression that was looking back at her didn't seem to agree, and she felt a pang of compassion for him, and hoped that he didn't have any idea what was happening to him, just then. It might have just been the loss of the nipple and the sorry substitution of the binky – and she hoped that that really was the only reason he seemed crestfallen, but she wasn't sure, and she hugged him close for a moment before pulling the binky out and settling him back against her breast.

Romanoff winced, slightly, when he took hold once more, but she set the pacifier aside, along with the icepack. She knew how to free herself, now, and when she needed to do so, she would. Until then, she'd give him whatever comfort she could. He sighed, and his grip loosened a little, as if he understood what she was doing. Natasha covered him back up with her shirt and reached for her book, again.

"You're going to owe me big time for this one, baby," she told him, rubbing his back and returning to her story.

OOOOOO

"Everything all right?" Wong asked as Strange walked back into the library not long after he'd left.

The sorcerer supreme nodded and reclaimed the spot that he'd abandoned when Natasha had called him.

"Peter was being a bit of a pain. She needed some help with him. Nothing serious."

"I think I'm going to take a break," the other magician said.

They both were scholar enough to know that there was nothing wrong with researching something thoroughly, but that if you were tired from several hours of reading at a time, it increased the chances that you might miss something. Neither was willing to take that chance.

"Sounds like a plan." Strange had a bit of a headache, himself. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"Dinner, then."

They set their books down and left the library, heading for the kitchen and a much needed meal and break.


	25. Chapter 25

Tony and Pepper were sitting in the corner table when Natasha walked in almost exactly at the prescribed dinner hour. Both of them smiled a greeting to her as she walked up, and she decided with a single glance that they looked a lot less worn out than they had been the last couple of days. It was probably rough on them; physically, mentally _and_ emotionally, and she was glad that she'd thought to steal Peter from them for a while to give them a break from some of the stress a toddler could be. Especially a toddler who was in 10th grade.

Peter wriggled, excitedly, in her arms when he spotted them, too, and he turned himself upside down in Romanoff's arms, watching them as she carried him up to the table. Pepper reached for him, and pulled him out of Natasha's arms, but Peter wanted _Tony_, and reached for him after only a moment with Pepper. The billionaire reached over and took him, easily.

"How was he?" Pepper asked as they all sat down. "Did he give you any trouble?"

"He was fine," Natasha assured them. "We didn't do much, just cuddled. But he was probably ready for an easy afternoon after his busy morning. Lucky for me."

Tony looked at the child in his lap.

"Then he might be active tonight. Which is fine. Since it's decided to stop raining, after we eat, we're going to take him outside for a walk in the woods."

"Want to come?" Pepper invited.

"I have a few things to do, but thanks. You've got him?"

"We _do_," Stark told her. "Thanks for babysitting."

She smiled.

"Anytime, Tony."

"Say thank you, Natasha," Tony told Peter, taking the boy's hand and waving it at the spy.

"Tha's, Na'asha," Peter dutifully repeated, sticking his other hand in his mouth, and resting his cheek against Tony's chest, even though his eyes were on her.

"You're welcome, Baby," she told him.

She winked at Pepper and excused herself, reminding them that they knew how to reach her if they needed her for anything. Then she left.

"Did you have fun?" Pepper asked Peter.

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry?" Tony asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you want carrots?"

"Yeah."

Pepper rolled her eyes.

"I don't think he has that word completely figured out, yet."

"No." Tony stood up, with Peter still in his arms. "If you get his chair ready, I'll go place our dinner order."

OOOOOOO

Dinner was sliced ham (chopped for Peter, of course) with corn, mashed sweet potatoes and chocolate cream pie to finish it off. They found that he liked ham, he was still fine with corn, mashed sweet potatoes went well with the front of his clothing, and chocolate cream pie looked good on every surface he could touch. Including Tony and Pepper.

Once they had him cleaned up, they made a quick stop at their quarters to get him into something warmer to wear outside. Tony changed himself into clean clothes while Pepper pulled Peter's outfit off of him and crammed a suddenly very squirmy toddler into a pair of Thor sweats with an Ironman t-shirt, covered by an Ironman sweatshirt with a hood on it. Since it was still very wet outside, even though the rain had stopped, she also put him in rainboots, just in case he wanted down while they were outside.

With a stop long enough to grab up jackets for themselves as well, they left the main compound and walked across the drilling field to the woods on the other side.

The sky was starting to get that dull gray dusk color that comes with a heavy rain toward the end of the day, but there was plenty of light to see by – even under the trees – and Peter squirmed to get down almost as soon as they left the field. Well aware that there was nothing in this wood that could hurt him – at least, not with them hovering close at hand – they didn't press the issue when he wriggled away when they tried to hold his hands. Instead, they let him lead them through the trees, holding each _other's_ hand, instead.

"I think he's looking for the deepest puddles," Pepper finally said as they watched him jump with both feet into yet another puddle, splashing water everywhere – including on them at times.

"Probably testing his cool rainboots," Tony replied.

They weren't worried. He'd get a bath when they got him back to their rooms, anyway. If he was having fun, then that was fine with both of them. It was a little less okay when he waded out into the middle of one of the bigger ones and then sat down in it and refused to come out, splashing the water with his hands, and swinging them side to side, watching with fascination as the water dovetailed everywhere his hands went.

"Go get him," Pepper finally said, smiling. "I don't want him to catch a chill."

Tony walked over and reached down to pick him up, but Peter was having none of it. He had found the perfect puddle and here he was planning on staying. He dodged Tony's hands, adroitly, just moving his torso, and splashed water on both of them for good measure.

"Oh, no you don't," Tony told him, reaching for him again, and this time getting a better grip on the boy before he tried to lift him.

"_No!"_

Peter wriggled, again, and fell out of Stark's arms, right back into the deep part of the mudpuddle, belly first and dipping his face and most of head in as well. Tony snatched him out of the water, immediately, and Peter screamed – whether from the fall into the water, or being plucked out of it – was uncertain. Tony held him with one arm and tried to look him over with the other, and Peter squirmed once more, still screaming, and throwing himself backwards and upside down.

Tony didn't have a chance to catch him. He'd moved too quickly, and his clothes were wet and muddy and slippery, and Stark's hands were wet and muddy and a little numb from the chilly water. Peter ended up back in the puddle, but this time he landed on his head and the howl he let loose was unnerving as Stark once more picked him up.

This time Peter clung to him, burying his face against Tony's chest, into the cloth of his jacket and crying, loudly.

"Is he alright?" Pepper asked as Tony waded out of the water puddle, carrying Peter and holding him, tightly.

"He's just wet, I think," Tony told her, looking down at the boy. "I don't see any blood."

"Poor baby…" Pepper crooned, brushing her hand against the top of Peter's head. "I can't believe you dropped him."

"I didn't _drop_ him," Tony objected as they turned and started walking back toward the compound, figuring – correctly – that Peter was done with the great outdoors for the day. The toddler was still crying, although not loudly, now. "He _jumped_. He's pretty fast, you know?"

"Faster than _Ironman_?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes, and shifted his grip on the boy, bringing him up away from his chest so he could double check for any visible bleeding, but he didn't see any. Peter hiccupped in mid-sob, and Tony brushed his lips against the toddler's cheek, cutting off further tears.

"Hey… Peter… it's okay, buddy. How about we go home, we get cleaned up and dried out and then have some _hot chocolate_?"

The big brown eyes looked up at him, liquid and brimming with unshed tears. The lower lip was stuck out and trembling, and he was clearly not interested in hot chocolate.

"Or we could have _ice cream_," Pepper suggested, watching the interaction.

"Ice cream!"

Stark just rolled his eyes.


	26. Chapter 26

Peter wasn't crying by the time they reached their quarters. He was still clinging to Tony fairly tightly, though, and it took a bit of doing to get him undressed and into the bathtub. With him naked, the two had a chance to look for any kind of injury from the fall – both of them – that Peter had taken into the puddle, and they didn't see anything. He was just muddy and a little chilled.

"We can have him checked out, though," Tony suggested as he sat on the edge of the tub and watched Pepper bathe the boy. "Just to make sure."

Being good-natured like he was, Peter wasn't upset long, and he played in the water, happily, several Ironman toys and some floating animals and a Captain America submarine there to keep him occupied while Pepper and Tony traded off watching him so each could go change into comfortable, dry, clothes. He went willing into Pepper's arms when she held the towel out for him after they'd given him plenty of time to play, and she carried him over to the bed to dry him.

"_These_ pajamas?" Tony asked, bringing a one-piece, footed and hooded Ironman outfit over. It was warm, and fuzzy and was comfortable enough looking that Stark almost wanted a pair for himself. "Or two pieces?"

"Those are fine," Pepper assured him, reaching for a pull-up. "I'll finish here, if you want to go find him a treat…"

"Ice cream…" Peter reminded him, his brown eyes happy and eager.

Stark smiled, leaning over to kiss him.

"Not cake?"

_"Cake!"_

Pepper rolled her eyes, amused.

"Meet in the lounge?"

"Yeah. Be good for mommy, Peter."

He left and she finished dressing him, pulling the hood of the pajamas over his head and smiling when he pulled it off.

"You look so _handsome_."

Peter smiled and cuddled himself against her, his lips pressing against her neck. Pepper picked him up and headed for the lounge. They'd feed him a snack – not ice cream or cake if they could avoid something so sugary this late in the evening – and then read him a story and put him to bed.

OOOOOO

Tony was sitting at the corner table when they arrived. Even better – as far as Pepper was concerned – he was sitting with Stephen and Natasha. They all looked over as Pepper walked up to the table, Peter tucked into her arms, and Peter turned himself upside down in her arms to greet them, proving that the fall into the puddle had done nothing to inhibit him from being squirmy.

"Tony told me that Peter fell," Strange said, holding his hands out to Peter, who cocked his head and then accepted the offer and let the doctor take him from Pepper.

"He _dropped_ him," Pepper corrected. "Right on his head into a mudpuddle."

"He _jumped_," Tony told them. "He was wet, and my grip slipped."

"Let me take a look," Strange said. "Just to make sure."

The doctor smiled at the boy he was holding, and set him into his lap. He unzipped the pajamas to pull them off Peter's shoulders and bare his stomach and chest and then started running his hands along the boy, searching for any sign of swelling, bruising or heat that might indicate an injury. The boy giggled and squirmed, which made Stephen smile, again.

"Is he alright?" Pepper asked, also smiling.

"He's fine."

Strange put the pajamas back on, zipping them up, but they suddenly went from being _Ironman_ pajamas to looking like an exact representation of the outfit that Strange or Wong would wear. There was a cloak, as well – although it wasn't separate from the pajamas, it was just added into the fabric. Peter didn't notice the change – although he _did_ cock his head again at the use of magic – but Tony rolled his eyes and the two women both smiled. When Stephen tried to hand him back to Pepper, though, Peter shook his head and clung tight to the doctor's shirt, wrinkling his normally superbly pressed clothing.

"Ice cream."

Strange looked over at Tony, who shrugged.

"This one's on _Pepper_."

"It's a little late for ice cream," Strange said, looking down at the boy he was holding. "You'll never get to sleep."

Peter's face fell.

"Ice cream..."

"How about a _cracker_?" the magician offered, holding up a cracker that had suddenly appeared in his hand.

The toddler shook his head, looking hopeful.

"_Ice cream_, Ste'en."

Natasha snorted, softly, watching the battle of wills play out in front of them. That earned her a look from Strange, who set the cracker down, and tapped Peter's nose, softly, in admonishment. He wasn't used to so much pushback, really. Certainly not from a _child_. Of course, he didn't deal with children on a regular basis – or ever.

"No."

The toddler's eyes filled, and the lower lip quivered and stuck out, which the doctor thought was absolutely adorable – if not for the fact that he recognized it as an indication of a potential outburst.

"Aw, it's _just_ ice cream," Natasha said, her heart breaking as alligator tears rolled slowly down Peter's cheeks. "Let him have some."

"You guys are going to _spoil_ him, Natasha," Strange pointed out. "He doesn't need ice cream this late at night. The sugar will keep him awake and he'll be grumpy in the morning."

Peter buried his face in Strange's shirt, sobbing, softly, as all the woes of the world came crashing down on his tiny little shoulders. Strange rolled his eyes at the others and brushed the back of Peter's head, feeling just a little guilty – but unwilling to back down and lose the argument.

"Ice cream…" Peter mumbled, brokenly, sniffling into the front of the doctor's shirt.

"Just a _bite_, maybe?" Pepper suggested. "I _did_ promise him some…"

The toddler looked over at her, brown eyes bright with tears, but he kept his hold on Strange, who sighed and looked down at him. As if aware of his scrutiny, Peter turned his head up to look at Stephen, who found himself caught in that hopeful gaze, and he sighed.

"One bite."

The boy nodded, solemnly.

A spoon appeared in Strange's hand, and it had a dollop of ice cream on it. Peter reached for it, eagerly, but the doctor pulled it away. There was no way he was going to give something so potentially messy to the boy when he was sitting in _his_ lap.

"Open up."

Peter's mouth opened and his eyes lit up when the magician spooned the ice cream into his mouth. He made several loud smacking noises of appreciation, clearly enjoying the flavor (and his _victory_, Strange decided, privately – even though the toddler almost certainly didn't look at it that way).

"You old softy," Stark said, amused at the way the doctor was no more immune to Peter's big, brown eyes than the rest of them were.

"It wasn't worth the effort of arguing, Tony," Strange pointed out.

Not to mention the boy was in his present form just then because of some relic at the sanctum. Which made it somewhat Strange's fault he couldn't just go get his own ice cream. Peter reached for the cracker that the doctor had offered him before and started to gnaw on it, still leaning against Strange, content, now, to simply be held, and once again assured that all was well in his world and that he was loved.

"Well, since he's settled for now, and _you're_ taking a break," Natasha said – amused and not hiding it. "Why don't we play cards?"

The others agreed quickly enough, and a deck of cards and a scorepad appeared on the table, which made Peter look over for just a moment before turning his head to put his face against Strange's chest, almost certainly listening to the man's heartbeat. Eventually, he fell asleep while they played on around him, and the gnawed on cracker fell to the floor.

Natasha smiled over at him when she realized what was going on, but Strange didn't even roll his eyes like he normally would have. He just shrugged and smiled down at the boy in his lap.

"Spoiled?" she asked, softly.

Which made Tony and Pepper smile, too.

"He's just _indulged_," Tony said.


	27. Chapter 27

Stephen was still holding Peter when their game ended – with the women beating the men. The boy was sleeping, soundly, leaning against the sorcerer with his cheek against his chest and his arms hanging down loosely at his sides.

"I won't be around tomorrow," he told the others as Tony carefully plucked the toddler out of Strange's arms.

Peter roused, opening his eyes and looking around, sleepily, clearly not entirely awake but aware enough to know that he was being moved. His hand clutched Stephen's shirt, automatically, holding it tightly and not allowing the transfer until he realized that it was _Tony_ doing it. Then he let go and reached for Stark, instead, burying his face into his shirt, mumbling.

"_Daddy…"_

"Shhhh…" Tony crooned, lovingly, pressing his chin to Peter's cheek. The boy's hand brushed his jaw, and he turned his head a little, sighing, and closed his eyes, again. "What are you doing?"

"I'll be in London," Strange replied. "Obviously, if you need me, call me. Otherwise I'll check in on Monday – or sooner, if we find anything."

"Think the answer might be there?" Stark asked, looking down at the child who had once more fallen asleep, secure in his arms.

"We still need the right _question_, first," the doctor replied. "What happened? But hopefully I'll find what I'm looking for there."

"Let us know if there's anything we can do," Pepper said.

"Of course."

Natasha and he watched as Pepper and Tony said goodnight and carried Peter out of the lounge, heading for their quarters.

"Is Wong going, too?" she asked, gathering up the cards and putting them back in their box before setting them on the scorepad.

"No. He's focused on this pendant that was in the area of the explosion – and one of the relics the cloak pointed out to us as being involved – possibly. It's not as ancient in appearance or record as the others, and he thinks that he might have seen a reference to it in a book somewhere in our library, so he wants to check it out."

"He's a smart guy, isn't he?"

Strange nodded.

"Probably the smartest I know. And that's saying something, really. We're both close to ruling out the book and possibly the chalice, only because they'd require a catalyst – someone would need to probably drink something from the chalice, or read from the book. Jewelry tends to be a little simpler. But I don't want to speculate more than I need to – and Wong hates guessing – so we'll see what we learn."

It was his habit when he was at the compound at night to walk her to her quarters, so he took her hand and they walked out of the room as well.

"I keep hoping that the Mind stone knows what to do to fix him and will tell me," Romanoff said. "But so far there hasn't been anything."

"It needs to be in the mind of something," he reminded her. "It might not even understand the problem until we do - and then maybe it _would_ know what to do. Remember, the cloak has an origin that the stone could get from it, and passed it on to Peter. Because it's sentient and remembered its history. There's no guarantee that any of the other relics are – or can. But that's something to think about, really. You do have a connection to it – not like Peter or Vision, of course – but a familiarity that might come in handy. Just remember any dreams you have."

She nodded.

"You looked so cute with him, today."

"That's because I'm _already_ cute," he pointed out as they reached her door. "A baby just magnifies that tenfold."

"Yeah. You are," she agreed. "Let me know if there's anything you need from us, here, okay?"

"I can't think of anything, at the moment, but I will. Keep an eye on Peter, alright? He's a pretty stubborn little man."

Natasha smiled.

"You're just saying that because he got ice cream out of you tonight."

"Too true."

He kissed her and vanished, and Romanoff headed to bed.

OOOOOO

Peter woke when Tony started to settle him into his little bed. Stark assumed it was some toddler instinct that told them it was time for bed and immediately woke them so that they could ask for that last drink of water, or something similar. Either way, instead of putting him down, he carried him into the bedroom and settled with him on the bed, waiting for Pepper, who was washing her face in the bathroom.

"How are you doing?" he asked the toddler, looking down at the boy and pushing his curls from his forehead.

Peter looked up at him, his expression a mixture of sleepy and content, but his hand reaching up to touch Tony's chin, brushing the facial hair there with his fingers.

"He woke up?" Pepper asked.

"Yeah."

She walked over and sat down on the bed next to Tony, and rested her head on his shoulder, looking down at the boy.

"I don't think he knows what's happening," she murmured, softly. "When I look at him, and he's so peaceful, like he is, now… I think there's no way the older version of him is in that little head." She reached down and touched the soft cheek. "And then sometimes, he looks at me and I think that he's right there, just waiting to tell me he's in there – and how to fix him."

"I know." Tony hugged the boy to his chest, and then reached for a book for Pepper to read to them both. "It makes you wonder, though," he said as he shifted to lean against the headboard of the bed.

"Wonder what?"

"If his memories aren't in his head – where _are_ they?"

"I would think that that is a question for Stephen," she said, moving to sit beside him. "Or Wong."

Before he could say anything, his phone chimed that a video call was coming in. Tony handed Peter over to Pepper, making sure she wasn't in the video, and then answered it, surprised at the caller ID.

"T'Challa. Hello."

The young king of Wakanda nodded and greeting.

"_I am sorry for calling you at this late hour, Tony."_

"It's fine. It's not _that_ late, yet. Everything okay?"

T'Challa nodded.

"_Shuri asked me to call you, however. She cannot reach Peter, and apparently, he has missed their usual mid-weekend phone call. She hesitated to call you or Pepper, but had no problem requesting that I do."_

Stark smiled at the tone in T'Challa's voice, clearly a put-upon older brother and not the king of the richest nation on Earth.

"Peter's fine, T'Challa," he assured the younger man. "We just have a bit of a situation – and we'd rather not have it spread about too much."

"_Is there anything that I can do to help?"_ the king asked.

"I don't know," Tony admitted. He knew Wakanda was far more technologically advanced than pretty much anywhere. But this seemed to be a magic problem and not a tech problem. "It's a bit hard to explain – especially over the phone – and unbelievable to boot. Just tell Shuri that Peter's fine, he just isn't available to talk to her, right now, and we're working resolving the issue."

"_Which will drive her to asking me more questions_," the other man told him, with a wry smile. "_You understand this, right?"_

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"_I will tell her I spoke with you, and that Peter will call her when he is able. Thank you, Tony."_

"Thanks for checking in."

The line went dead, and Tony looked over at Pepper, who shrugged, looking down at the boy she was holding. Peter had fallen back to sleep, without a story. Toddlers were hard to fathom, sometimes. They both knew it.

"I'll put him to bed," she said.

"I think I'll remind Stephen that Wakanda has a fairly rich oral history, too," Stark told her as she got out of their bed and carried Peter to his little room. "Maybe it wouldn't hurt to see if they have any of those myths."

"It couldn't hurt," Pepper agreed.


	28. Chapter 28

A high-pitched screech snatched Tony from a sound sleep. He jerked upright before he was completely aware of what the noise was, his suit activating, immediately, in response to the jolt of adrenaline that tore through his system as he scrambled out of the bed, getting tangled in the blankets and looking around, wildly, for whatever danger was presenting itself. Pepper, too, rolled out of the bed, her own reaction more to _his_ than to the noise that had woken Stark, but she was a little less alert.

"What-"

The screech sounded, again, a terrified cry that sounded all the louder since it was coming from the small room off to the side of their bedroom, making it sound as if someone was being murdered. The suit disengaged as soon as Tony realized who had screamed, but he ran into the little bedroom, with Pepper right behind him.

Both stopped at the door and stared, and Tony turned on the light, just to make sure that he wasn't imagining things.

Peter was standing on the ceiling, hanging upside down, his face beet red and his eyes filled with tears. He looked over at the doorway when they turned on the light and reached for them, screaming again.

"Shit…" Tony reacted immediately, moving to stand directly under the toddler – although if he were going to fall, logically, he would have already fallen. "Peter, come down."

"_Down_!" Peter wailed, reaching for Tony, who was the closest.

Luckily the ceiling wasn't that high. Between Tony reaching up – although he did end up pulling Peter's bed over to stand on it – and Peter reaching down, Stark was able to get hold the child's hands. As soon as he had that contact, whatever was holding Peter onto the ceiling released – or maybe something inside the boy understood that it was safe to let go and it did. He went down with another cry of fear, but Tony had him and swept him into his arms and then held him tightly against his chest.

Peter sobbed into Tony's t-shirt, clutching the fabric – and a little skin – with a grip that showed no sign of releasing anytime soon.

"Poor baby…" Tony crooned into his ear, soothingly, as he stepped off the bed. "I've got you."

He walked over to their bed and sat on the edge, with Pepper cuddling close beside him, the two of them pressing the frightened little body between them to comfort him.

"_Down_…" Peter mumbled into Tony's chest, shaking.

"You're down," Stark assured him, his hand brushing through the fine curls and soothing as much as he could. "We've got you. _See_?"

Peter _didn't_ see. He couldn't. Not with his eyes closed and his face in Tony's shirt. He didn't show any sign of moving it any time soon, either.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Pepper whispered, pressing a kiss against his ear since Tony couldn't reach him. She looked up at Tony and shook her head with a slightly chagrined smile. "Guess that answers _that_ question, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Tony kissed the top of Peter's head. "He can climb up walls, but he doesn't have getting down figured out, yet, does he?"

"Down…" Peter mumbled, again, hiccupping.

OOOOOOO

Peter didn't go back to sleep. He had given himself a fright that he wasn't ready to get over, right away. Tony kissed Pepper and said that he'd take the boy into the lounge to let her go back to sleep. Since it was Tony that Peter was holding and wouldn't let go of, she simply nodded, well aware that there wasn't anything she could do to calm him that Tony wouldn't. She handed him the Ironman doll to take with them, and went back to sleep, but Tony took his still shaking burden to the lounge and settled himself into most comfortable of the sofas. Where there was plenty of room for him to sprawl against one of the arms and a cushion and not have to be concerned about rolling off the furniture if he _did_ fall asleep.

Which he didn't.

Eventually, Peter stopped shaking and his breathing steadied, but he was still holding Tony hard enough that he knew the boy was awake.

"Climbed up the wall?" he asked, his soft voice echoing in the empty room.

Peter nodded, rubbing his face against Tony's soft t-shirt – which was damp with snot and tears.

"Yeah."

"Probably shouldn't go around doing that, huh?"

"Yeah."

"But you _might_ do it again, huh? Because little kids are dumb and they do dumb things, huh?"

"Yeah."

Stark smiled, well aware that Peter wasn't even listening to what he was saying; he was just listening to the inflection of his voice and responding to it, automatically.

"But you're not dumb, right?"

"Yeah."

"You're too smart to climb up a wall and get stuck on the ceiling, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Good thing there isn't a ceiling fan in that closet, huh?"

"Yeah."

He finally pulled Peter back from his chest, bringing his knees up so the toddler could use them as a back rest and Tony could wipe his eyes and nose with the hem of his shirt since he didn't have anything else to use, just then. The brown eyes looked fairly woeful, still, but when Tony smiled, reacting to the surge of love and affection he felt rush through him at the sight of the boy, Peter smiled, too.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Tony rolled his eyes, amused.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"Yeah."

"This interrogation is incredibly unhelpful. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"What's your name?"

He just wanted him to say anything but _yeah_ by then.

"Peter."

"Good. And my name?"

"Daddy."

Tony held up the Ironman doll, now that Peter was looking around a little more.

"Who is this?"

"Daddy."

"Ironman."

"I'onman."

Peter reached for the doll, and Tony let him have it, watching as the boy stuck it in his mouth.

"Are you chewing on daddy?"

The answer was a little muffled, but Tony didn't mind. He just leaned forward and kissed Peter's forehead, and watched him gnaw on the doll's head.

OOOOOOO

"You're up early…"

Stark turned to look over his shoulder and saw Steve had entered the lounge without him realizing it. Not a big surprise, really, since his back was to the door and Peter was still commanding attention, even though he wasn't squirming, or wiggling, or doing more than still gnawing on the doll in his hands. Although, occasionally he would lean forward to either cuddle against Tony's chest for a few minutes, or to kiss his chin – which he could reach if he grabbed Tony with both hands and pulled his face down for a kiss. Which Stark let him do every time, of course.

"Technically, I'm up _late_," the billionaire corrected, watching as Peter looked up at Roger's arrival and smiled a greeting, but flopped his head down against Tony's chest, once more.

Steve slid a hand along the toddler's back and moved to sit on the other end of the sofa.

"He wouldn't sleep?"

"Scared himself," Stark said, with a fond smile at the boy. "Apparently, he climbed the wall in his bedroom and got on the ceiling and couldn't figure out how to get down."

"He _did_?"

"Oh, yes. Screamed and cried until I plucked him off like a kitten in a tree, and then wouldn't go back to sleep. So here we are. _Right_, Peter?"

"Yeah."

Rogers smiled.

"He looks _tired_. How long have you been in here?"

"Since around 2am."

"Wow." Steve shook his head. "Want me to take him for a while, so you can get some sleep?"

"Nah. I'm not too sleepy, right now. I'm going to sit here with him until one of three things happen. He'll fall asleep. Pepper will come and take over. Or he will suddenly transform back into his teenaged self and smoosh me right here."

"Any word from the sanctum?"

"Stephen's going to London today to check out a lead. I might ask them to talk to T'Challa and see if they have anything in Wakanda, too."

"_Wakanda_? Why?"

"They've got some amazing tech – _probably_ comparable to my own – but some of the research I've been doing leads me around on some more esoteric ceremonies, too. Nothing that I can pin down, but you never know what they might have learned in the millennia they've been stewing behind that shield of theirs. I'd prefer he didn't go into details, but a theoretical question here and there wouldn't hurt. Just in case."

"Good point." Steve stood up. "I'm going to go for a run. Need anything?"

"Bottle of juice from the bar, please. I don't care what kind."

When he was gone, Tony cracked open the lid on the juice and let Peter have a sip, carefully holding it against the boy's lip so he didn't spill it. Which he didn't. He took a drink, too, then, and set it aside, and studied the child on his lap. Peter looked back at him, his expression as serious as one can be when holding a soggy doll that has been getting gnawed on all night.

"Are you okay in there, son?" Tony asked, softly, brushing the curls back from his forehead.

Peter nodded.

"Yeah…"


	29. Chapter 29

_It was bright. So bright that he had a feeling that if the situation around him was a normal one, he'd be in the throes of one of the worst headaches ever. As it was, though, he didn't feel any discomfort. He didn't feel _anything_, really. He just saw the light, and seemed to be floating, waiting. It would have frightened him, this nothingness around him and the fact that he knew, deep within, that something was wrong, if not for the comforting presence of the Mind stone nearby._

_He remembered the sanctum. Remembered the relics going crazy, and the cloak coming around him as there was an explosion, and in the back of his consciousness he could feel the ever-present contact of the Mind stone. Even closer than it normally was; more intimate than it could be with him if situations were different. This close to its presence, and Peter knew that the thing's sheer power would have killed him by then. But it wasn't even hurting him. It was just _there_, and it seemed to be waiting – although he wasn't sure, initially, what it was waiting for._

_Even more. This stone wasn't alone. As he waited with it, Peter realized that beyond the subdued power of the Mind stone, he could feel another stone. One even more powerful. One that made him shiver – not with fear, but with a certainty that this one's energy was potent enough to kill him, even though he couldn't seem to feel the magic in the same way, here, where he was waiting._

Soul_, came the unprompted answer in his mind._

_Peter didn't understand, and he felt a gentle amusement from both stones at his obtuseness. There was the sensation of a conversation. A communication between the two powerful entities and a form of understanding. Suddenly, the world wasn't all white and brightness. And suddenly, he wasn't alone any more._

_He recognized her immediately, even though they'd never met in person. Only in a dream. Beautiful, hairless and with a timeless expression of knowledge on her face, she walked up to him, dressed in brilliant white robes. He looked down at himself, and found that he was wearing sweats and a t-shirt – equally bright white._

_"Peter…"_

_Her voice held the wisdom of entire worlds, and the boy knew that he should be afraid, or respectful, at least. He was too confused to be either, however._

_"Ancient One."_

_She smiled._

_"Stephen has explained who I am since our last encounter."_

_"Yes. You were his teacher."_

_"I was. But now I'm here for you."_

_"Where are we?"_

_"The Astral plane." She smiled, again, as if understanding that the answer wasn't truly an answer, for him. "It is a place – a different dimension, or location – where a person's soul can go when separated from their corporeal form."_

_"So, I'm dead?"_

_"No. With training, concentration – or even with the right herbs – one can walk the Astral plane without the need for their bodies to die."_

_"I don't have any of those."_

_"No. But you are unique, Peter. Your ability to connect with the stones of power has put you in a fascinating predicament. And in _terrible _danger. Which is why I'm here."_

_"Are you an angel, then? To lead me forward?"_

_He'd seen enough movies to know all about the bright light, and the tunnel – although he didn't see a tunnel, anywhere. The thought of being dead would have been devastating if he was able to think hard enough to actually consider it. Not for himself; Peter had nearly died several times, really, and wasn't too afraid. He was thinking more of those who would be left behind. The people who loved him. It was a hurt that he wouldn't want to make anyone go through._

_Besides, he had a lot that he still wanted to see – and he hadn't even had a chance to attend his first bachelor party._

_The Ancient One shook her head._

_"My time is short. The soul stone has allowed my release long enough to speak with you, but it is finite."_

_"I'm in danger, you said?"_

_"You remember what happened at the sanctum?"_

_"An explosion."_

_"A convergence of magic," she confirmed. "With an awesome and terrible reaction in your case. One that should have destroyed you in one form or another."_

_"I don't understand."_

_"I know. Listen well, Peter, because you'll need to be ready when the time comes."_

_"Okay."_

_"Because of the convergence in the sanctum, you now exist in two forms. In two _very _different states. Here, you are sixteen. You have your memories. You conscious. Your soul – mostly. On Earth, where the others are, you are now a child."_

_"What?"_

_"A child. A _toddler_, to be precise. That form is also you, but to protect you – and _him _– the Mind stone separated the two of you at the time of the convergence. Your thoughts and soul and Mind came here, where it could be cushioned from the blow, and the child left behind was provided only the memories needed to keep him from being terrified in his reality. And he carries the remainder of your soul. Which is where the danger lies."_

_"I have two souls?"_

_"No. You have _one_. At the moment, because of the power of the stones that are connected to you – and to each other – your soul is being shared by two forms."_

_"How is that possible?"_

_"Through the Soul stone, almost anything is possible. But there is a great strain, even with the power of the stones involved. If the situation isn't resolved, eventually, the soul will have to be brought together, again, in order to preserve it. You'll both die."_

_"What do I do?"_

_"You're the catalyst, Peter. The Mind stone doesn't know what happened – no intellects were there for it to see, other than your own and the Cloak of Levitation – so it doesn't know what relic caused the problem. Stephen and Wong are working on that. When – if – they find the cause, the Mind stone will find the solution, if one exists, and will allow you to cast the spell to make things right, again."_

_"So I'll be back with Tony?"_

_"Yes."_

_"What about the baby me?"_

_"He's you. He'll be there, too, only he won't be in physical form."_

_"Oh. How long has it been?"_

_It felt like years, but he had a feeling that time was a bit skewed where he was._

_"A matter of days, so far. Time is growing short, however, so be ready to strike when the window is opened."_

_"I will. Thank you."_

_She smiled, and he was surprised when she hugged him._

_"Good luck, Peter."_

_She vanished, and the area grew intensely bright once again._

_The boy hesitated, and then reached his mind toward the familiar stone, opening himself up to it completely since it didn't hurt him to do so, here. He felt the thing embrace him, and through that embrace, he could feel the other stone. The soul stone. Even more; linked to him at that one moment, he could feel others – not as powerful as the soul stone, but still infinitely more vast than one small boy. He closed his eyes, allowing their touch, and waited for the time to be right._

OOOOOO

"Is he _still_ awake?"

Tony nodded, looking over the toddler in his lap, still resting against his raised up knees, and watching as Pepper sat down on the other end of the sofa. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, clearly awake and ready to start her day. Peter looked over at her, as well, and smiled, still clutching the doll in his hand, but no longer clinging to Tony.

"I don't think that he's slept at all."

"Have _you_?"

"No. I almost fell asleep once, but he stood up in my lap and jolted me awake."

Pepper smiled.

"Poor baby."

"We didn't want kids, _anyway_, right?"

She reached her arms to Peter.

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

He ducked his head, turning away from her just long enough to let her know that he didn't want a change of holders, and Stark shrugged.

"_I_ could eat. I bet if we feed him something and stuff him, he'll sleep for a while, too."

"It's worth a try."

He got up, with Peter clutching his shirt for balance and the soggy doll for comfort, and went over to the table, with Pepper following. The boy was willing to be let go and assisted into the highchair, and he watched them both, once more shoving the doll in his mouth.

"We're going to have to wash that thing," Tony pointed out.

"Definitely." She got up and kissed him, running her fingers along the stubble on his jaw, lovingly. "I'll go order breakfast. Coffee?"

"Please."

"_Coffee!" _

Stark smiled, and shook his head.

"How about _milk_?"

"Yeah."


	30. Chapter 30

Breakfast for Peter was oatmeal. It had the _potential_ to be messy, yes, but it was filling and they both knew that he liked it. Besides, Pepper didn't give the boy the spoon and allow him to feed himself that morning, instead opting to spoon the cereal into his mouth a bite at a time while Tony had a plate of eggs, sausages and toast. She'd told him that coffee was all she needed for now, because she could eat later. Especially if Tony and Peter were both going to end up back in their respective beds.

Peter had pointed at Tony's breakfast, too, opening his mouth and silently demanding a taste. Once Stark gave him a bite of his eggs, though, he decided that oatmeal was _better_, just then, and turned his attention to Pepper's spoon, instead.

"What are you going to do this morning?"

She waited to make sure the mouthful of oatmeal was going to stay where she put it before answering.

"I want to read up on a few things. There's a conference call with some people in the Asian market this afternoon and if I can, I'll join in on it. If I _can't_, that's fine, too."

"We'll make sure that you can," he assured her.

Peter ate the entire bowl of oatmeal and then decided the Ironman doll was more entertaining than more breakfast, and he ignored Pepper's attempt to get him to drink any juice. When he tried to stick the mangy looking doll back in his mouth, however, she shook her head.

"That's _really_ gross, sweetheart. We should wash it, first."

OOOOOOO

When Natasha walked into the lounge, looking for breakfast, she found her favorite two year old in Stark's arms, sobbing despondently into Tony's t-shirt.

"Awww, who pinched him?" she asked, smiling as she walked over to the table,

Pepper smiled, wryly.

"We're washing his doll, and the world is ending because of it."

"_Daddy_…" Peter mumbled, brokenly.

"It's okay, Peter," Tony assured. "It's not _really_ daddy in there."

Natasha's smile was soft as she realized that Peter was upset – not because they'd taken the doll – but because the doll represented Tony and he probably thought it was being tortured in the washing machine.

"Give him to me, Tony," she said, reaching for the toddler, who was still gently weeping.

Without argument, Stark lifted Peter from his chest and the boy started to struggle until he realized that it was Natasha who was taking him. Then he just continued crying and buried his face against her neck.

"Na'asha… _daddy_…"

"I _know_, baby," she murmured, turning her head and pressing a kiss against his soft curls. "Come on, let's go watch and make sure nothing happens to him, okay?"

The sobbing stopped in mid-cry and he turned his head up to her, his eyes weepy and tired. Obviously, he was ready for a _nap_, too, she decided. Just as soon as they rescued his doll from the clutches of the laundry. She smiled at Tony and Pepper, and a silent gesture told them that she would keep Peter with her for a while, leaving them free to do anything that they might need to do. Then she carried the boy into the kitchen behind the bar, where the small front load washing machine that took care of all the linens was situated.

Natasha easily slid down, cross-legged, in front of the machine, and Peter turned in her lap so his back was to her stomach and he could see the soapy water through the viewing window of the washer. Bright outfit visible amongst the white washcloths that were also in the load, the Ironman dolls was being tossed and turned in the turbulent waters created by the agitator.

"See?" she told the toddler, pointing. "There he is, and he's _fine_. Right?"

"Yeah."

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him closely as they watched the washer working.

In the lounge, Tony just shrugged.

"I guess that's why she's so good at what she does," he said to Pepper, watching the two vanish into the kitchen.

"Yes." Pepper smiled. "We'll have to pay her baby-sitting fees at this rate, you know?"

"Nonsense. As much as she's enjoying this? She should be paying _us_." He stretched, and looked at the front of his shirt, which was drooled on, cried on and had been used more than once for a tissue. "I'm going to go to bed. Get yourself something to eat and take advantage of what free time Romanoff buys you, okay?"

"Are you bossing me around, Tony Stark?" she asked, leaning over and kissing him. "You haven't had the authority to do that in years, you know?"

"I'm going to be your _husband_," he reminded her with a smile, since he knew she was going to hit him for the next words out of his mouth and if he had actually _meant_ them, he would well and truly have deserved it. "That makes me the boss, again."

She tapped his chest, well aware he didn't mean anything he'd just said.

"Be careful, mister."

"Or?"

"Or I'll tell Natasha what you just said."

He laughed and kissed her, again, standing up.

"Anything but _that_. I'll see you later. If you need me, you know where to find me. If he falls asleep feel free to bring him to me and I'll hold him."

He left and Pepper went to the bar and ordered breakfast for herself, glad that she'd thought to bring her tablet with her to the lounge so she could get some work done. She peeked into the kitchen and smiled at the sight of the two figures sitting in front of the washing machine, refilled her coffee cup and went back to the table.

Peter was in good hands, after all.

OOOOOO

"_Are you busy?"_

"I'm _always_ busy, Tony. What's up?"

"_I was wondering what you know about Wakanda?"_

"That's a pretty broad subject," Strange said, shrugging. "Anything in particular?"

_"Do they have any fountain of youth myths? Or anything about people turning young? That kind of thing? Do you know?"_

"You think this is related to Wakanda?" Stephen asked, looking over at Wong, who was sitting at the library table, watching the sorcerer supreme converse with Stark over the communications watch he wore.

"_No. I mean, maybe. I was just wondering if you'd thought to see what they had? When I was looking them up after meeting T'Challa, I ran into a reference about an herb or something that is supposed to have pretty weird effects on people."_

"No," Wong said, softly. "That herb is just used by the kings to visit their ancestors on the Astral Plane. It doesn't have a single fable or lore that mentions youth."

"I'll look into it, Tony," Strange said, nodding at Wong to confirm that he'd heard him. "We'll let you know."

_"Thanks."_

The communication went dead and Wong shook his head.

"That herb won't help us. You know that, right?"

"He's worried about Peter," Strange said. "I'm not going to take away any hope from him without consideration."

The other magician nodded his understanding.

"I assume you don't _really_ want to explain what we are to the Wakandans?"

"Not if I can help it."

"I'll think about it," Wong promised. "While you're in London. Maybe a walk in the Astral dimension will provide some insight."

Nothing else was working, after all, maybe he'd find one of those Wakandan ancestors, or something.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

The cloak flew over, then, affixing itself to its customary spot, and Strange vanished.

Wong looked down at the book he had been studying, and decided to get some breakfast. He was ready for a break.


	31. Chapter 31

Steve Rogers frowned when he walked into the kitchen that was attached to the lounge. Natasha Romanoff was sitting on one of the metal preparation tables, slicing an apple with a knife and watching Peter. The little boy was crouched in front of the dryer, his expression intent as he watched the items inside tumbling, and a somewhat gnawed on slice of an apple in his hand

"What are you doing?" he asked, hopping up onto the table beside her.

"What does it _look_ like?" she replied with a slight smile. "We're waiting for the dryer to finish."

"Did Tony tell you what Peter did last night?"

"No." she looked at the boy, who was transfixed on the tumbling towels. "What?"

"Climbed a wall and got himself stuck on the ceiling."

"So, he _does_ have his spider abilities."

"Looks that way. Makes sense, if you think about it. He was teen Peter and transformed into a baby. He didn't turn into the baby that he was, before. I know you're sure he can still feel magic, so why not be able to climb walls?"

"Why not?" she offered him a slice of apple, which he took off the knife. "Could you imagine growing up with that? It's rough enough on _Peter_ – teenager Peter – to learn how to use it. Try figuring it out at 3 or fours years old…"

"I'm cringing at the thought of having to relive _puberty_," Steve said with a slight smile. "What are you going to do today?"

"When the laundry is done, I'm going to put Peter down for a nap and keep him out of trouble for a while. You?"

"Going into town to buy some gear this _morning_ so I can join the fishing expedition this afternoon."

"What fishing expedition?"

"Pepper told me that Tony wants to take Peter fishing on the riverbank. I thought I'd invite myself. Interested?"

"Of course. Buy me whatever you buy for yourself."

There were a few fishing poles somewhere in the compound, but Natasha wasn't completely certain where they were.

"I'm going to find a little kid sized Captain America fishing pole for Peter."

"And Ironman _bait_?" she added, smiling.

His eyes lit up, and he snapped his fingers.

"Good idea."

"Don't give it to him until I'm there to watch."

The dryer suddenly dinged, and Peter jumped from his crouch, excitedly, looking over at Natasha. She set the knife and apple down on the table and wiped her hands on a went towel that had been next to her.

"That's my cue."

Steve watched as she walked over to crouch down beside Peter, who was standing close to the dryer, hopping up and down, excitedly, but not actually _touching_ it, since presumably Natasha had told him not to. He snatched up rest of her apple and walked out of the kitchen, munching on it.

He had to go find a fishing pole – or two. Or three.

"Think it's done?" Romanoff asked the eager little boy.

"Yeah."

"Let me open it and see. Stand back, though, it's hot."

"'Kay."

Natasha made a show of sticking her hand in the dryer and feeling blindly through all of the warm, freshly dried towels. Then she felt what she was looking for and allowed her eyes to get big. She pulled out the Ironman doll and held it up.

"Look who I found."

"_Daddy!"_

Peter reached for it, but she held it back from him.

"It's still _warm_, baby," she cautioned. "Let's tuck it against your shirt."

She picked Peter up into her arms and he rested his cheek against her breast, watching as she put the doll between her shirt and his. She could feel the heat from the dryer warming her skin, and knew he could, as well.

Peter examined the toy stuck between them, happily.

"Warm."

"Yeah, it is. Are you ready for a nap?"

"No!"

He shook his head, but rubbed his eye with one fist, and she realized that the warmth of the toy would help relax him and put him to sleep. He'd been awake a long time – especially if he'd been up climbing walls – literally.

"Well _I_ am, so let's go sit down somewhere and read a book, okay?"

"'Kay."

He mumbled to himself – or maybe it was to the doll stuck between them – as they went from the lounge to her quarters, and Natasha decided when she sat down on the sofa with her book that the thing was probably safe to hold by the time they'd arrived. She settled Peter in – he was so distracted from having rescued the Ironman doll that he didn't even make a grab for her breast – and he almost immediately closed his eyes, holding the doll close.

"I love you, baby," Romanoff whispered – just in case he needed reminding.

The toddler sighed, contentedly, and fell asleep, unaware that he was in the arms of one of the deadliest women in the world. He just knew she was comfortable, and warm, and had helped him save his doll. Which was how it should be, of course.

Romanoff set the book back on the coffee table, deciding that she didn't want to read, after all. Instead, she dropped her head, just a little, and breathed deeply of the smell of sleeping toddler and dryer sheet and simply let herself relax.

That's what weekends were for, after all.

OOOOOOO

The trip to London wasn't a waste of time, as Wong had told Strange that it probably would be. He explained the situation – using _hypotheticals_, since there was no way they'd let anyone in the magical community know that someone with the potential that Peter had in that little body was so vulnerable just then – and he and the people in the London sanctum spent a couple of hours discussing the artifacts that potentially could have been involved. Eventually – and much sooner than he'd anticipated – he made his manners with the magicians there, but he declined the offer for dinner and brought himself back to the sanctum just after lunch.

"Nothing?" Wong asked, knowing immediately when he'd arrived, but waiting for Strange to join him in the library on the third floor.

"They agree with us that the chalice probably _isn't_ the perpetrator," he reported as the cloak detached and drifted away. "For the same reason we want to rule it out. But _they_ think that the book of Griben isn't quite as harmless in this instance as we conjectured. One of them remembered running into something about a sorcerer in Prague who vanished suddenly, while holding it."

"Doesn't mean he or she turned into a _baby_," Wong pointed out.

"No. And they probably didn't. But it _does_ mean we might want to look at it a little more. I wanted to rule it out because it's been handled before – many times – without incident, and Peter told us before that it's fairly evil. Which usually means that a simple touch wouldn't trigger anything untoward. It would require more interaction."

"But interaction with another relic might be catalyst enough to trigger something."

"Right."

"That isn't much."

"I know."

"You've decided against going to Wakanda?"

"I don't think they can help with this."

"And you don't want to expose us."

"If I thought they had something we could use, I _would_," Strange replied. "But, yes, it isn't worth the time that would be involved to explain who we are and what we do. Vibranium didn't cause Peter's problem, and _we_ don't need that herb to go to the Astral Plane."

"True."

OOOOOOO

A light knock on her door brought Natasha alert. Not so alert that she tensed enough to wake the child sleeping in her arms, but enough to realize that she'd drifted off a little, sitting there on her sofa with Peter. And had had an odd dream.

She heard her door open at the same time that she turned her head and saw Clint poke his head into her quarters. He grinned when he saw what she was doing _and_ who she was holding, and let himself into her quarters, walking over and sitting on the coffee table so he could see Peter, who was blissfully unaware of the scrutiny.

"Does Tony know you've stolen his spider-kid? _Again_?"

Romanoff smiled.

"I'm _hiding_ so they can't come find me and make me give him back. You're back a little early."

"Yeah. Thought I'd make sure everything was going all right."

"They're doing pretty well with him," Natasha confirmed.

"Stark learns quick," Clint said, approvingly. "Do you need anything?"

"No. We're going to be right here until he wakes up. Then, after lunch, there will be _fishing_, if you're interested…"

Barton nodded.

"I should have brought my pole."

"Call Steve, he's out looking for a Captain America one for Peter. He can pick one up for you, too."

"I'm not using a _Captain America_ fishing pole."

"Smart ass." She checked to make sure the toddler in her arms was asleep and hadn't heard the curse word, and then freed a hand to shoo him away. "Go bother someone else. And if you see Pepper or Tony, you didn't see _me_ and you don't know where we are."

"Uh huh."

He let himself out and she turned her attention back to Peter, and to the dream or daydream or whatever it was that Clint had interrupted.

"What in the world is the Astral Dimension…?"

Romanoff gave a mental shrug, deciding it sounded like something mystic. She had a mystical boyfriend, conveniently enough. She'd ask him, later.


	32. Chapter 32

Tony looked much more awake when he joined Pepper in the lounge several hours after he'd gone to bed. She looked up from her tablet and offered him a cheek to kiss, which he did, before he sat down.

"What are you working on?"

"Important Stark Industry things," she said, mysteriously, with a gleam of good humor in her expression. "Nothing _you'd_ understand."

He rolled his eyes, amused, and looked around.

"Romanoff's still gone with Peter?"

"Yes. Clint came by a little bit ago. They're in her quarters. He's _asleep_, so don't go bothering them and waking him up. I don't want him grumpy, later."

"I wasn't going to go _bother_ them," he objected.

"No?"

She raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged.

"It's not _bothering_ when you were just going to make sure they didn't need anything…"

"I'm sure they're fine. Did _you_ get enough sleep?"

"Yeah." Tony was used to functioning without a lot of sleep, so it wasn't a big deal. "Are you going to be here a while?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I'm going to go check out the fishing gear – just to make sure we don't have any tangled lines or anything. Call me when Natasha brings Peter back and I'll help you feed him lunch."

"Sounds good."

OOOOOOO

Peter woke with a gasp that Natasha felt more than heard. The toddler jerked his head up, as if startled, and then looked at her with an odd expression and started crying. Confused, she caressed his hair and his cheek, crooning softly to him. Then realized that he must have had a bad dream that had woken him.

"Poor baby," she said, softly, reaching for the pacifier that was on her coffee table from the last time.

She pressed it against his lower lip and he took it, immediately, the sobs muffled now and his mouth working furiously on the binky. She would have simply offered him the natural alternative, but with him crying like that she was fairly certain that he'd forget himself and bite down on her, and that was something she'd pass on. Romanoff rocked him until the soft cries stopped, and then she held him a little longer, giving him a chance to fall asleep, again. When he pushed himself away from her collarbone and looked up at her, she smiled, and pulled the binky with a soft popping sound.

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah."

"Are you… _hungry_?" she asked him, playfully.

"Yeah."

"Do you want… _broccoli_?"

"Yeah."

The assassin smiled and got up, making sure to pick up the Ironman doll that had slipped from Peter's hand while he'd been sleeping.

"Let's go find mommy, shall we?"

"Mommy…" Peter repeated, nodding.

"I thought you'd approve."

OOOOOOOO

She found Pepper in the lounge – exactly where she expected to find her. Sitting at their corner table with a cup of coffee, a plate of crackers and her tablet, she looked up when they entered, and Natasha watched her move both the hot coffee and the fragile technology out of reach of a toddler. Clearly, Pepper was learning.

"Mommy!" Peter told Natasha, looking over and pointing, excitedly.

"I know, right?" Romanoff stopped and set Peter down on the floor, letting him run over to the table and get swept up into Pepper's arms. Her pace was a bit more sedate, and her greeting a little less excited and without the sloppy kiss Peter planted on Pepper's nose when she'd kissed his cheek. "Tony still sleeping?"

"Tony is out looking for the fishing poles so he can take Peter fishing after lunch," Pepper said, handing Peter a cracker, which he began gnawing on, immediately.

"Clint is going to invite himself, too."

"As is Steve," Pepper added. "He asked if I minded, and I told him no. The more people watching Peter on the riverbank, the better."

"We can put floaties on him, just to be safe, if you'd like."

"Tony already thought of that. There is an _Ironman_ lifejacket in Peter's size just waiting to be used."

"That will go well with the _Captain America_ fishing pole that Steve went to get."

The two women laughed, amused at the subtle – and not so _subtle_ – competition going on between the two men.

"You couldn't find any Black Widow clothes when you were out with Steve?" Pepper asked, handing Peter another cracker.

The first had been eaten rather than just nibbled on.

"I didn't look," she admitted, amused. "That is a pissing contest I don't want to be caught up in."

"Steve would most likely win," Pepper admitted. "Ironman might – _might_ – be more popular, at least here, but Captain America has been around a lot longer. More time to get his picture and logo on more things."

"True."

Natasha went to get herself a drink, and the two women sat at the table. Peter finished his cracker and wanted down, and went over to the blanket with all the toys on it to play. Since they were close enough to supervise without actually getting up, they stayed where they were, and Natasha sent Tony a heads-up to let him know that Peter was in the lounge and they were just waiting for him to join them so they could feed him.

OOOOOOO

"It's been a long time since I've been fishing," Rogers said an hour later as several of them stood on the riverbank, looking out over the water.

"It's like riding a bicycle," Clint assured him. The archer had already checked out the new fishing pole that Steve had brought him, made sure the action on the reel was smooth and baited his hook. With a practiced cast, he sent his line – bright yellow bobber and all – well out into the gentle current of the river, and preened. "Just like _that_, Peter. Got it?"

The toddler was standing between Steve and Tony, but he nodded in response to Clint nodding at him and giggled. He was dressed in little jeans and an Ironman sweatshirt, which was mostly covered by the Ironman life vest that Tony had tightened down securely before putting the boy on his feet anywhere near the water.

Steve made a quick cast with the small Captain America fishing pole that he'd brought Peter and handed it to the boy.

"How watch that orange thing," he said to Peter, pointing at the bobber that was floating idly in the water much closer to the riverbank. "If it sinks, that means a fish is on the line and we have to reel him in. Okay?"

"Yeah."

Peter took the pole, watching intently, and Tony rolled his eyes at Steve's smug expression.

"Poor guy probably won't catch anything with that junkie thing…"

"His will probably be the catch of the day," Steve assured him, casting his own line out. It was spot on, proving that Clint was right. "Unless _mine_ is, of course."

"Think so, Rogers?" Tony's cast was right where he wanted it go – a far cry from the very first time that he'd cast a line and almost pierced Strange's ear. "Shall we make it more interesting?"

"Oh, you're on, Tony."

Barton rolled his eyes, amused, but he was willing to make it _more interesting_, too.

"What's the wager?"

The men all looked at each other, and then at the chilly looking water.

"Smallest fish takes a swim," Stark suggested.

"Done."

Peter screamed in excitement when his bobber suddenly vanished.


	33. Chapter 33

"You know, _technically_ we didn't shake hands on it…"

Clint smirked.

"Captain America, _reneging_ on a bet… what would the world think if they knew?"

"In you go, Rogers," Tony said, reaching into his pocket for his phone to take a photo.

They'd fished for two hours – which was about all the attention span that Peter could handle, really. Everyone caught fish, including Peter, who had squealed with excitement as Tony had helped him reel in three fine-looking fish. The boy had refused to _touch_ them, of course, once they were off the hook, but they'd taken pictures with him and the fish for Pepper and Natasha to admire and the fish had then been sent back into the water to rejoin their families.

All the fish caught by the adults were carefully measured and photographed for the purpose of their bet before they, too, were sent back into the drink, and at the end of the fishing day, Clint had the largest – by far – and Steve's was edged out by Tony's by half an inch.

Steve rolled his eyes and did a run and jump into the water, coming up for air with a gasp as the shockingly cold water soaked him to the skin, immediately.

"_Steve!"_

Without warning, Peter dashed into the water, as well, jumping in before Tony could react, and even before Clint's frantic grab for him. The toddler screamed before he went under, brought immediately back up with the life-vest and all three men made a dive for him; Steve, who was already _in_ the water, and Clint and Tony, who jumped in from the bank.

Rogers reached him first, sweeping him completely out of the water and tipping him upside down to make sure there wasn't any water in the boy's lungs. Peter coughed a couple of times, but then clung to Steve's shirt with a tight hold that only loosened when Tony and Clint reached him, as well. Then Peter reached for Tony, his eyes wide with shock at the cold water, but not with fright.

"Is he okay?" Tony asked, checking for any sign of injury as the three of them waded out of the water and back onto the riverbank.

"I think he's fine," Steve replied.

"What's going on?"

All three stopped short when they turned toward the compound and saw Natasha and Pepper coming toward them. Peter giggled, ready to abandon Tony for Pepper.

"Momma!" She took him, even though he was soaked, and he pressed his cold little face against her neck, making her flinch. _"Momma, momma, momma…"_

"Peter jumped into the water," Tony explained. "Before we had a chance to stop him."

She frowned, looking at the little boy, who was playing with her necklace, his cheek still against her neck

"So a toddler is faster than three _Avengers_?"

"To be fair," Steve said, pulling his t-shirt off and wringing the water out of it. "I was already _in_ the water, so this is all Tony and Clint's fault."

"Why were you in the water?" Natasha asked, curiously. "It's a little cold for swimming."

"Because he had the smallest fish, Nat," Barton said, with a wink. "Keep up with us."

She rolled her eyes and they all started walking back to the compound.

"Did everyone catch a fish?" Romanoff asked.

"Yup. Even Peter, here."

"You didn't keep them?" Pepper asked, smiling. "He's too young to protest eating them, right now, after all."

"It's the principal of it all, Pep," Tony pointed out. "Just because he's little, doesn't mean we go behind his back. Besides, I didn't want to clean them."

"The fun is in the catching," Clint agreed.

"Catching a cold, is more like it," Natasha said. "You guys all need to go get changed – including _you_, baby," she added, poking Peter's side, which made him giggle. "Then we'll have dinner and find something to do."

"Sounds like a plan."

They all split up. Clint and Steve to their quarters, Tony and Pepper with Peter to theirs, and somehow Romanoff ended up with all the fishing poles and bait to be put away. She scowled, watching their retreating backs, and then shrugged and decided to check in with Stephen as she walked to the garage.

OOOO

Do you think he _needs_ a bath?" Pepper asked as she pulled the life vest off Peter, who was sitting on the bathroom vanity, watching her, cheerfully. "He doesn't look dirty, just wet."

"_I_ need one," Stark said, stripping himself to the skin. "So he can come into the shower with me. Two birds, one wet stone."

He got the water in the shower warm enough and Pepper handed the toddler over, and then went looking for clothes for both of them. Tony's stack had jeans, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Peter's was pull up fuzzy pants made of bright green fabric with the Incredible Hulk on them and a white sweatshirt. The slippers that he was so fond of would finish the outfit. It was warm, and even better, the boy could sleep in them, as well. One less wardrobe change.

Not surprisingly, they were the last ones to arrive in the lounge. The other three were at the corner table and Clint walked over and took Peter from them.

"_I'm_ going to feed him, since he looks so nice and clean right now," he explained, smiling at the toddler who watched him with interest. "Then we can play pass the baby while we play whatever we decide to play."

"Sounds like a plan."

OOOOOOO

Dinner was chicken. With mashed potatoes for the adults and French fries for Peter, without any sauce for them – again to keep Peter from being messy. Clint carefully cut Peter's chicken into hand-sized pieces and set them on the tray of Peter's highchair along with the French fries. With his sippy cup filled with juice, he was content to shove handfuls of whatever happened to be closest into his mouth, hungrily.

With Clint's skilled assistance dinner was easy. And _somewhat_ neat. They still needed to clean hands and face with a warm, wet washcloth but aside from that, it was simple.

"You're amazing," Stark said, truly impressed, when Barton pulled Peter out of the highchair and handed him over to Tony.

"It just takes practice and know-how," Clint said, modestly. "Three kids will give you all of that."

Peter wriggled in Tony's arms.

"Down!"

Tony did as he was told, and set Peter down. The boy ran on his little legs over to the blanket with the toys and plopped down in front of the blocks, mumbling to himself as he started stacking them. Then he cocked his head a little, and looked toward the entrance to the lounge, making the others follow his gaze, as well. A flicker of motion was the first indication that they had. A moment later, the Cloak of Levitation came soaring into the room and made a beeline for the toddler. Peter squealed in glee as he was completely engulfed in the heavy fabric, and Strange walked into the room right behind it.

"Stephen," Tony said by way of greeting. "We had dinner, but you're welcomed to have pie and coffee."

"Thank you." The doctor walked over and smiled a greeting to Natasha, who winked, and they all settled into their chairs for dessert.

"Anything from London?"

"We're not ruling out the book, like we wanted to," he told them. "The people there had a lead from Prague Wong is checking out. We're ruling out the chalice, though, So that's a start."

"Whittle down the suspects and the one left is the one who did it," Steve said.

"Yes."

"What about Wakanda, Stephen?" Tony asked. "Anything?"

"Wakanda has two things," Strange said. "Vibranium – which is, as you know – incredibly rare everywhere else and able to create some amazing things, and they have an herb that doesn't grow anywhere else."

"What kind of herb?" Clint asked. "Turn teenagers in to toddler herbs?"

Strange smiled.

"No. It's used in ceremonies by their kings," he said. "It lets them walk the Astral plane to speak with their ancestors."

Natasha frowned.

"I had a dream today," she said. "Well… I'm not sure I was asleep, so it might not have been. I dreamed I was talking to Peter – _teenaged_ Peter – and he said we were in the Astral plane. I remembered, because I was going to ask you what that was."

Strange frowned.

"You dreamed of Peter?"

"Maybe."

"Then it's probably something I should look into." The doctor stood up, looking at the others. "I'm going to pass on the pie, Tony. Thanks."

Peter screamed as the cloak suddenly unwound itself from him, and managed to get one hand on it before it could make its way over to Strange. The relic froze in place, unwilling to pull the boy off the floor, and Natasha got up and went over to both child and artifact, holding her hands out to him.

"Here, Peter," she crooned. "Come here. The cloak will come sleep with you later, okay?"

He hesitated, but only for a moment, and then let go of the cloak in order to allow Natasha to scoop him up and gather him into her arms.

"_Cloak_," he murmured, watching as the relic shook itself like a wet dog and then went to Strange.

"I'll let you know if I find anything," the magician promised, and vanished.

"_Magic_…" Peter mumbled.

Natasha nodded, smiling at him.

"Sit with us? Or go play?"

He tucked his head under her chin and closed his eyes.

"Guess that answers that," Clint said.


	34. Chapter 34

"You think our answers lie in the Astral dimension?" Wong asked, when Strange had returned to the sanctum and told the other magician what had been discussed at the compound.

"I think it wouldn't hurt to look _into_ it. Natasha's never heard of the place, but she's suddenly dreaming of it? Even more specifically, while holding _Peter_?"

"Sounds like the Mind stone."

"Right."

"Do you want me to go?"

They wouldn't both walk the plane. It would leave their bodies unguarded, as well as the sanctum.

"No. I'll go."

OOOOOOO

Peter dozed off in Natasha's arms not long after they started playing cards. He didn't have any interest in the game, and the boy was tired from being awake most of the night before. Stark watched him sleeping, a slight smile on his face every time he looked over. Of course, it could have been the huge amount of drool that was soaking Romanoff's shoulder that had him so amused, also.

They didn't play too late. It was Sunday, after all, and they all had a new week to get ready for. They finished the last hand and gathered up cards, score pad and Tony collected his little boy from the super spy, who was ready to hand him over by then.

"I feel like I need a snorkel," she said, smiling.

"You _look_ like you need one, too," Rogers agreed.

Peter had roused a little when Tony tucked him under his chin, but he never opened his eyes. He was tired, and warm, and safe. What was more, he knew it. A brief touch of the facial hair adorning Tony's chin, and the boy mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like _daddy_ and went right back to sleep. They all said their goodnights and went their own ways, although Tony lingered to wait for Pepper to gather up her tablet.

"How did the conference call go?" he asked as they headed back toward their quarters.

"It was fine. I'll follow up with our people on the west coast tomorrow afternoon, and the merger should be set up by the end of the week – if everything goes as planned."

"Which it should?"

"Yes."

They put Peter into his bed and tucked him in – no sense reading a sleeping child a story – and then got themselves ready for bed, as well. Pepper was working the next day, so she needed to get some sleep. Tony cuddled up against her, spooning her delightfully close.

"If he wakes, I'll take care of it," he told her, whispering in her ear. "You sleep. Okay?"

She murmured her agreement, and they both went to sleep.

OOOOOO

The Astral Plane – or _Dimension_, depending on what vernacular you were taught during your training – was different for everyone. As far as perception went, that was. Some things were constant, though. Like the black panthers could affirm, people could meet there, and discuss things. They could even touch each other – although it was purely one noncorporeal entity touching another. If a person knew what they were doing, through training and familiarity, the Astral plane was a great source of knowledge, and possibly even power, if it could be harnessed.

Strange knew the place well. He'd been there many times. It took a simple gesture and word to get there, once he was in a relaxed position to keep his body from being stressed while he was gone, although time, too, could be manipulated in the Astral plane. A moment after he'd seated himself on one of the comfortable couches in the library, he opened his eyes and found himself in a very different place, with brilliant light all around him.

And immediately found that he wasn't alone.

"Dr. Strange!"

"Peter!"

The boy was himself. His sixteen-year-old self. Strange wrapped his arms around him and hugged him, tightly, relieved to have the proof that the boy he had come to care for so deeply wasn't, in fact, gone from them. Not that he didn't feel drawn to the toddler, but it wasn't the same relationship.

"What happened?" Peter asked, when they finally separated. "Am I _really_ a little kid?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

Peter explained what he'd been told – and who had _told_ him – and Strange was silent the entire time, listening with both fascination and growing concern.

"You can feel the soul stone?"

"Yeah. I can feel all of them."

"All of _what_?"

"The _stones_. They're really faint, compared to the Mind stone and the Soul stone, but they're in the back of my head, right now." He saw Strange's concerned look, and shrugged, trying to reassure. "They aren't hurting me. They don't have the same tingle, here."

"We're going to get this figured out, Peter," the sorcerer supreme told the boy. "I'm not sure how we'll _fix_ it, but we will."

"All you guys need to do is find the sequence of events," Peter replied. "I've had a lot of time to think about it – and to… I guess, _discuss_ is the only word I can think of using… but I've discussed it with the Mind stone. If you know what happened, it will try to find the solution and I'll cast the spell to fix it."

"You can't do that, _here_."

The boy shrugged.

"It seems to think that I can. It keeps telling me to be ready."

The doctor hesitated.

"Does it tell you how much time we have to figure it out?"

"No." Peter's expression was serious, now. "It's not going to be pleasant, though, from what I'm understanding. I'm not so worried about _myself_ – I've hurt before – but the _little_ me won't understand what's happening, and it'll be painful and scary for him."

"They're taking good care of him," Strange assured him. "And they're taking a million pictures, so that should be the craziest slideshow in the history of slideshows when you get back and have them present it to you."

Peter smiled, which had been Strange's intention. He pulled the boy into another hug and held him tightly for a long moment, and then even pressed a kiss against his cheek, which surprised them both.

"Just assume that that one was from Tony and Pepper, alright?"

"Thanks, Dr. Strange. Tell them I'm okay, will you? And not to worry?"

"I will, and you know that they _will_ worry. But we'll get you back."

A moment later, Strange opened his eyes back in the sanctum, and felt the Cloak of Levitation wrap itself around him, tightly. He looked over and saw that Wong was still sitting where he had been when he'd left, and was looking at him, intently.

"Well?"

"I found him. Or, he found me."

"Peter?"

"Yes."

"He's _intact_?"

"Well… he and the child are sharing a soul, but aside from that, he is. Memories are all there, and same cheeky manner."

Strange explained what Peter had told him. It relieved Wong that Peter was there, but by the end of the narration, his expression was just as serious as the other's.

"Have _you_ ever felt the stones of power in the Astral dimension?"

"No. I didn't feel them this time, either."

"We need to get him back," Wong said, standing up and wiping his hands on his pants. "I want to hear more about this."

Right. Not because he was _fond_ of the boy, or anything.

"We will."

Both men headed back to the library, renewed by the new information and already thinking of new possibilities that their research could take to search for the solution.

"You're going to tell Stark?"

"I _have_ to. Just in case."

Besides, as callous as it sounded, watching the child would tell them when they were starting to run out of time.


	35. Chapter 35

Tony was in the lounge when Strange arrived at the sanctum the next day. He was holding Peter, who was fussing just a little, rubbing his face with a chubby fist every now and then and then rubbing his nose into Stark's shirt. Tony had a cup of coffee in a travel cup that he'd carefully close after each sip, just make sure Peter didn't get hold of it and burn himself, and Peter had a stuffed Ironman doll in his, which he was gnawing on, contentedly.

"Stephen," Tony said by way of greeting, which made Peter turn his head to look at the magician when he entered the lounge. "Good morning."

"Morning," Strange said, walking over to the table they were sitting at and smiling at the child in Tony's arms. "How's he doing?"

"Slept all night, for a change," Stark reported. "Woke a little grumpy, though. Seems cheerful enough, now."

"_Ste'en_…" Peter said, holding his arms out to the doctor, clearly wanting to be held.

Strange complied, and a cheese stick appeared in his hand once he'd seated himself, which he handed over to the boy. Peter smiled and started gnawing on it.

"Where is everyone?"

Stark shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee since his hands were free.

"Pepper's in the city and the rest are out doing secret _Avenger's_ stuff." He frowned at Strange's serious expression. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, as alright as we can be right now. I need to talk to you, though."

He told Tony everything that he'd learned the evening before, not leaving anything out. Stark listened intently, and didn't interrupt with even a change in his expression.

"You _saw_ him, Stephen?"

"Yes. A spiritual manifestation, that is."

"He's alright?"

"Yes. He's not being held _prisoner_, Tony. He was put there to protect him – and this guy. The two infinity stones have done what they could do to save him - which in itself is amazing. Now it's up to Wong and myself to solve the puzzle and figure out what happened."

"And if you don't, we lose them both…?"

"Yes. But we _will_. I just didn't think it was right not to tell you."

"I appreciate that." Stark was silent for a long time, his expression unreadable as he watched the child Stephen was holding, who had fallen asleep during the telling of the events of the evening before. "Did he say anything?"

Strange nodded.

"You know he did, Tony. He said to tell you that he's okay. And that he loves you."

Stark swallowed, hard, and the doctor handed him a tissue.

"Thanks."

"I hugged him for you. Even gave him a _kiss_."

Which made Tony smile, somewhat amused.

"And you told him it was from us?"

"Of course I did."

"What can we do?"

"Keep any eye on Peter, here. He's our barometer. Not that we're dawdling, now, but it gives us an urgency – and something of a timeline. Plus a little bit of hope."

"Hope? How?"

Strange smiled.

"We only have to figure out what went wrong. Peter told me that the Mind stone will figure out the spell to solve it, and that Peter will be able to cast it."

"What happens, then?" Tony asked.

"I'm not sure. We get teenager Peter back and have a bachelor party."

Tony looked at the child sleeping in Strange's arms.

"And him?" he asked. "We lose him?"

"He's one and the same, Tony. Same kid, same soul. They'll mash together into one, again, like they're meant to be. I don't know if Peter will remember anything of what this guy remembers – probably not – but he'll have all the pictures and videos you take. So, keep doing it. I told him there would be a slideshow when all is said and done."

"Thanks, Stephen."

"You're welcome."

"Would you mind watching him for a minute?"

"Of course."

Stark got up and left the lounge, and Strange looked down at the child he was holding. He ran his gingers through the boy's soft curls, comparing him to the boy that he'd seen just the night before. More hair, thicker, a little darker and less curly. No baby fat like this guy had, but definitely the same boy.

As if the scrutiny had a physical touch, the toddler opened his eyes, looking around and then looking up – probably to see who was holding him. He smiled, and Strange's echoing smile was tender.

"Hey, Peter," he crooned, softly. "I just saw your other half, last night. He's worried about you, but he doesn't _need_ to be – and _you_ don't need to be, okay? Uncle Wong and I are going to get it all straightened out."

The boy giggled, and pushed himself up a little higher and kissed Strange's eye.

"Yeah."

OOOOOOO

"So there's nothing we can do?" Natasha asked, looking stunned.

"No. We wait for Stephen and Wong to figure it out." Tony looked at the people at the table. Fury, Steve, Clint, Bruce and Natasha – with Deena the bartender also standing close by, since this wasn't an Avenger problem and she was fond of Peter. _Both_ of them. "Our job is to take care of Peter, here, and keep an eye on him – pretty much we've already been doing."

"But if we don't get it figured out, we're going to lose both of them…" Steve said, looking at the baby Tony was holding.

"They're _one_, right now," Stark said, reiterating what he'd already told them. "Peter in the other plane is there to safeguard his mind during this, and our little guy here is without a sixteen-year-old's memories, to safeguard his mind. They only have the one soul between them and if it stretches too long, they're both lost."

"It's not going to happen, though," Clint said. "Strange and Wong will figure it out."

"There isn't anything we can help them with?" Fury asked.

"Stephen says no. We watch Peter, though. _This_ Peter, I mean. Stephen said that Peter in the other plane doesn't know exactly how long they have – something about time being a lot different there – but our guy here will be feeling the effects before anything irreversible happens."

"We can do that," Natasha said, and now her expression was unreadable.

"Stephen said that Peter said not to worry about him," Tony added. "So try not to worry, okay?"

He was going to be doing enough of that for all of them.

They separated, then, to go back to whatever activities they had been doing when Tony had asked them all to come to the lounge after Strange had left. Tony wasn't surprised when Natasha hung back.

"Do you need me to take him, Tony?" she offered.

He shook his head.

"Not right now. Thanks. But if you could spend some time with him when Pepper comes home – so I can break the news to her, I'd appreciate it."

"I will. Call me."

"Thanks."

He carried Peter to his quarters and sat down on the bed, with the toddler still in his arms. The boy looked up at him and offered him the Ironman doll he'd been carrying.

"_Daddy_…"

Tony took it, and kissed it, ignoring the slobber left by constant gnawing.

"Thanks, Buddy," he said, handing it back. He felt his eyes stinging, and was overcome with worry and fear. Fear that he'd lose Peter forever – in either form. Or both. Worry about the baby in his arms. How could he protect him from something like this? He tucked the little body up under his chin, and Peter reached for the facial hair that was perfectly situated for touching. "I love you, Peter…"

"Love you, daddy…"

Tony couldn't help it; he cried.


	36. Chapter 36

"I don't understand," Pepper said, softly. "If Stephen found him, why couldn't he just bring him back with him?"

"Because he doesn't have a body to come to, Pep," Tony answered, gently. "The baby is here, and it would make Peter insane or something if the 16-year-old kid finds himself in a tiny little guy like he is here."

"But you said they're the same person."

"They _are_. Sharing a soul, which is why even when this is all over and we have Peter – 16-year-old Peter – back, we'll still know that we have the little guy in there, too, somewhere."

"Stephen _thinks_."

"No, Peter told him. So it must be true. Where he is right now, the Mind stone is in complete contact with him without hurting him. He's probably learning all kinds of things. Maybe who shot JFK, who knows?"

"Where's the baby, now?"

"Natasha has him."

"Is he alright, Tony?"

"He's fine, Pep. You'll see. I just wanted to be able to tell you what we learned, and you know how Romanoff is with that kid – in _either_ age. She came up and pretty much held a gun on me and said, _give me the toddler or else_. What could I do?"

Pepper smiled at him, knowing that he was doing everything that he could to keep her from being afraid. Which meant that he had to be terrified. And she understood that completely. Yes, she loved Peter, and everyone knew Natasha and the others loved him, but it was Tony the boy had connected with strongest, and who had loved him longest, of all of them.

A son in every sense of the word to him.

"What do we do, then?" she asked. "Just wait?"

"Everything is riding on Strange and Wong. They figure it out, and it could be as simple as '_hey, this is_ _what happened'_ the Mind stone figuring out the solution and then Peter casting the spell to correct it."

"And he'll be okay?"

"Yeah, Pep."

She went to him, then, and put her face in his neck, waiting for him to wrap her in his arms and hold her and comfort her as certainly as his words were trying to. Which he did. Tony tucked his chin on the top of her head and embraced her, tenderly at first and then with more fervor as they both had a chance, in their own minds, to consider the very real possibility that they were going to lose their son. Neither said a word about it to the other, though, and it was a very long time before he finally kissed her and released her.

"We probably ought to go find him," he said. "It's very possible that he's running around on Fury's ceiling waiting for someone to come get him down."

She nodded, and wiped her eyes.

"I'm going to change. I'll meet you in the lounge."

"Okay." He hesitated, and kissed her. "I love you, Pepper Potts."

"I love you, too, Tony Stark." She smirked. "And I'd like some Captain America sheets for our bed. Ask Steve where he found Peter's will you?"

He rolled his eyes, and left her to change.

OOOOOO

Natasha was in the lounge with Tony when Pepper arrived a short time later, now dressed in jeans and a fuzzy sweater. She was holding Peter and she and Tony were sitting in the usual table in the corner. Peter's corner, it was pretty much being thought of, since that was where his blanket and toys were, as well. The spy looked up as she walked over, and wordlessly handed the toddler that was sleeping in her arms over to Pepper, who took him carefully and gathered him into her arms.

Peter roused at the transfer, his breathing becoming a quick stutter as he was startled awake, and his hand tightening on the fabric of Pepper's sweater. She felt him press his face against the delicate skin of her neck.

"_Momma_…" he murmured, softly, and then was still, although she couldn't tell if he was sleeping or just being quiet.

Pepper felt the telltale sting in her eyes, but she turned her head away from Tony and Natasha as she settled into a chair to hide the moisture until she was able to damp down the sudden surge of worry. Then she turned to them, again.

"Was he good?"

Romanoff's expression was similar to the one she was probably wearing. Sad, but trying to hide it. Worried and not able to hide it. She nodded, though.

"I only have Clint's kids to measure him by, but he didn't pull my hair, or throw up on me, so I'm going to say yes."

Pepper smiled.

"That's a start."

Tony and Natasha continued the discussion that they'd been having – an Avenger discussion. It didn't mean Pepper was left out; they would discuss anything in front of her – even Top Secret things – but she wasn't interested in the payload that was going to Boeing Field the next week and so she tuned them out a little, and turned her attention to the dozing toddler in her arms. Was his breathing the same, steady, pace that it had been the day before? Did he seemed fevered, or was that just the same temperature that all sleeping children have? She wasn't sure. Aware that she was just making herself a wreck by worrying, she tried to distract herself and ran her fingers lightly through the soft curls that were tickling the underside of her jaw.

When Peter stirred at the touch, she knew he was awake. He shifted himself, putting his hands on her breasts and pushing his body away from her enough that he could look up at her. His brown eyes were sleepy, but filled with cheer, and they made Pepper smile, too, despite her concerns.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"Momma."

"Are you hungry?"

"_Ice cream."_

Tony smiled.

OOOOOOO

"I'm not seeing a connection," Wong admitted., with a tired sigh.

"Because there isn't one."

"Peter didn't say anything about which relic it was?"

"He doesn't know any more than we do," Strange pointed out.

"He looked okay, though?"

"Yes. It's definitely him."

"It'll be interesting to speak with him – once we get him back. Since he's not in his own body at this time, with the limitations that come with it, he can connect fully with the Mind stone. It'll be interesting to see if he gets anything from that contact. Not to mention we can add to what little we have on the soul stone."

"You'll probably have to stand in a lengthy line," Strange said. "I have a feeling Tony and Pepper will want him to themselves for a while, first."

The magician shrugged.

"It's only right." He looked at the books in front of him; stacks of books that they'd been going through, researching the pendant. "I think I'm going to start over," he told Strange.

"With the pendant?"

"No. From the beginning. Knowing everything we've looked at, now, I'd like to start with all three artifacts. See if we missed anything."

"We don't have an infinite amount of time."

"Then we'd better get started, yes?"

Strange nodded.

"Yes."


	37. Chapter 37

_A/N: So the fix is coming, and I won't draw out the worry too long. Not because I'm worried about things getting boring, or dull in the story, but mainly because even though I love to add a little whumping to poor Peter, I can't do it to baby Peter, and he's the one that would suffer. Thanks!_

OOOOOOOO

"If this goes on much longer, he's going to forget he has _legs_…"

Tony smiled, sitting at his regular table and watching as Nick Fury carried Peter over to one of the sofas in the lounge and sit the toddler on his knee. From the body language of the two, he was giving Peter a speech of some kind, although they were too far away to hear what was being said. For his part, Peter was watching the director, intently, nodding his head every now and then when Fury did.

"They need time with him," Stark said, softly. "I can understand that."

Pepper could, too.

She and Tony were ostensibly in the lounge for dinner, although it was a little early. They'd been spending a lot of time there the past four days, because that's where the others were, and they all wanted to spend time with Peter. In groups, or – more commonly – individually, inevitably someone would come over to where the toddler was playing with his blocks on the blanket, or just sitting on Tony or Pepper. They'd offer him their arms and when he accepted, they'd simply silently carry him off to be alone with him. Sitting on the couch in the lounge, or sometimes off to their quarters, or on walks outside or even through the corridors of the compound.

They were all worried, of course, and trying to hide that concern from each other. Stark could tell, though. He saw it in their faces when they'd take Peter into their arms. They were hoping for a positive outcome and realistically trying to steel themselves for the worst. He understood, because he and Pepper were doing the same thing. When they were together, he'd see her forced smile belie the scared or haunted look in her eyes, and knew that they mirrored his own.

He was certain it was even worse for her when he wasn't there with her, since she didn't need to try and hide that worry.

On the positive side, Peter – _little_ Peter – seemed to be healthy, still. He didn't sleep well at night, and sometimes would cry for seemingly no reason, but Clint had mentioned that his littlest did that, sometimes, too. Whether it was true, or he was just trying to keep them from worrying, Tony didn't know. But he appreciated it.

"Any word from Stephen or Wong?" Pepper asked.

"Not since the other day."

Strange had made an appearance two days after he'd told Tony about seeing Peter. The doctor looked tired, and worn, but had assured Tony that they were doing everything that they could. Stark knew that, and had said so. It wasn't fair to the magicians that it seemed everything depended on them, but in this instance, there wasn't a thing that any of the Avengers could do to _help_ them – aside from staying out of their way and not continually calling them asking for updates.

When they had something, Tony knew that they'd let him know. But waiting was hard for them. They were all used to action. Not hurry up and wait.

"We're going to owe them big time when they figure it out," Pepper said, softly, reaching for Tony's hand as her attention went to Fury and Peter.

Now he had Peter in his arms and was rocking him, occasionally swooping him down to swing him, which would make the toddler giggle. Tony and Pepper both smiled every time Peter did.

"We'll buy the building next to the sanctum and install a day spa there," Tony suggested.

"And a tailor," she added, with a smile.

They all knew how Strange loved a nice suit.

"What are you two talking about?"

They both looked up and saw Natasha had joined them without them noticing. Not a surprise, really, and not just because they were distracted. She was an assassin, after all. It'd be a poor day for her if she couldn't sneak up on a worried businesswoman and a preoccupied tinkerer.

"We're taking bets to see if Peter throws up on Fury," Tony lied. "I'm hoping he _does_, but Pepper doesn't think so."

If anyone was stressed more than Tony and Pepper, it was Natasha. She had cleared her schedule completely, telling the others that she couldn't concentrate enough right then to work on anything that required too much of her attention. With Stephen working himself day and night with Wong to find the cause of what happened to Peter, added to the threat that was looming over the boy – in both forms – it wasn't surprising that she looked almost as tired as Tony, lately.

She looked over and her expression softened, as it always did when she saw someone playing with Peter.

"How is he?"

"He took a nap for about an hour, a little while ago, and he seems fine. Do you want him after dinner? He'll be especially messy, since it's spaghetti night."

Romanoff smiled.

"You don't mind?"

"You have to _bathe_ him, if you take him," Pepper reminded her.

"It's worth it. Thanks."

OOOOOO

"You know, I think you're _right_."

Strange looked over at Wong, thinking that the other man needed to get some sleep. He looked tired.

"About what?"

"The book. It _had_ to be the book."

They'd gone back to the beginning, like they'd intended. Looking at all of the relics that had initially been involved in the explosion. Including the cloak. It was easy enough to rule the cloak out, though. Using their typical yes and no questions, Stephen had simply asked if it felt any magical energies being drawn from it when the explosion had happened. When it told them no, that was their answer – and their way to mark it off the suspect list.

The pendant had been their top suspect, because it didn't require interaction with anything, since it was _jewelry_, but it, too, had ended up expelled from their suspect list.

"The book _and_ the chalice," Strange said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, tiredly. "They couldn't have interacted, though, could they?"

"Impossible."

"Which means we ruled it out, immediately, _before_."

"Right."

"Let's look at it, again, then."

Wong didn't even argue. He nodded and went over to a shelf to get a research book.

OOOOOOOO

"If I were a naked baby, trying to avoid a bath, where would I be…?" Natasha asked, aloud, pretending to look all around her quarters. She picked up a picture from off the coffee table and made a show of looking under it before putting it down, and then bent over onto her hands and knees to look under the couch.

She heard a soft giggle, and forced herself not to look the direction it came from.

"I'm going to find you, baby… then I'm going to _get_ you…" she said in a sing-song voice, crawling along the floor and getting up to look behind the TV mounted on the wall.

Another giggle.

This time she pounced, making a low growling noise as she swooped in behind the potted banana tree that Peter was hiding behind and gathered him into her arms.

"_Gotcha!"_

The toddler squealed, happily, and put his arms around her neck. Ignoring the fact that she was being smeared with red sauce and tiny pieces of spaghetti, Romanoff kissed his cheek, smearing him further, and making him giggle.

"Na'asha…" he said into her neck. "Gotcha."

The spy smiled, sadly, and carried him toward her bathroom, and the waiting bathwater that he'd so recently escaped from.

"Yes, you _do_."


	38. Chapter 38

It wasn't looking promising.

Two more days had passed, and the strain was showing all around. Tony and Pepper were worn out. The stress of the situation and the constant worry had left them without appetites and they both were sleeping, poorly. Peter was fevered, and fussy because of it. With a binky in his mouth and his stuffed Ironman doll tucked in his hand, he whimpered even when he was asleep, as if plagued by pain or bad dreams – or _both_.

Tony and Pepper were with him, nonstop. They cradled the little body between theirs when they had him in bed, keeping him warm, and caressing his back, or running fingers through his curls while speaking softly to him about anything, and nothing. He'd hold one, or the other, and would occasionally murmur something to them, but with the pacifier in his mouth, it wasn't always understandable. When not in their room, they'd cuddle him and hold him, always making sure one of them had contact with him at all times. Always making sure he knew they loved him.

The others were still close at hand. Now, though, they were there for _Tony and Pepper_ – and for each other. If Tony needed a break – either a call of nature, or because the hopelessness was rising up inside him and he needed to get away to hide it from Pepper until he had control again – then someone would step up and sit with her. The same for if Pepper needed to step away. The stress was incredible, but the Avengers were there to take up whatever burden they could.

Peter stopped eating that afternoon, and not even Natasha could coax him into more than a bite or two, before he simply turned his head away and had rested his cheek, tiredly, against Tony's neck. Stark had exchanged looks with the spy, and both of them were scared and not able to hide it, any more.

"I can keep trying," she'd offered.

Tony shook his head, and had gathered the toddler against him, taking the little hand and holding it against his bearded chin.

"It's alright, Natasha. I'll just hold him for a while," he'd told her. "We'll be okay. Won't we, Peter?"

The boy hadn't replied, but the little fingers brushed into Stark's facial hair and the ragged breathing slowed into a steadier rhythm as he did. Natasha got up, leaned over and brushed a kiss against Stark's forehead before she left, unable to sit still, any longer.

"Call me," she said, softly. "I'll be right there."

Tony closed his eyes and held his boy until Pepper returned, and then they'd just gone to bed, despite the early hour.

OOOOOO

"That has to be it. Do you agree?"

Wong nodded, leaning back in his chair.

"Peter says magic vibrates to him. No reason the relics can't do that, _themselves_, then. The chalice and the book start giving off vibes, the book becomes charged and the magical energy is released. It shatters against the metal of the chalice, hits the pendant and is magnified by the conductors."

"Then," Strange said, picking up the litany. "The sanctum senses an impending explosion of interdimensional potential – because of the nature of the chalice – and tamps it down – backlashing it to hold it in just this area. The blast hits the pendant again, and then hits Peter. And would have killed him, if the Mind stone hadn't taken steps."

"Yes."

"That's the answer."

"I agree."

Both men were exhausted, and the path that they'd been tracking was so convoluted that they had lost the thread several times and had been forced to backtrack, repeatedly. The table in front of them was littered with papers, books and scrolls, as well as stacks of notes taken in Wong's neat handwriting, and Stephen's less legible.

But they had it. They were certain.

"What do we do now?" Wong asked.

"We wait," Strange replied, rubbing his face and scratching his jaw, where he had several day's growth of stubble that he realized itched like crazy. "It's supposed to be up to the Mind stone and Peter, now."

They didn't get up, though. Instead, they leaned back, closing their eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn't a sigh of relief. That wouldn't come until they had things right, again. But it was a start – and they both knew they'd done all that they could.

OOOOOO

It happened so quickly it startled him, even as tuned into the Mind stone as he was, just then. Peter felt the stone suddenly turn its attention elsewhere – it did that a lot, so he didn't think anything of it – but then realized that the soul stone had pulled its awareness away from him, a little. It didn't hurt, but he thought that if he was back home it would have been extremely painful.

There was a surge, and then a memory flashed into his mind. Not _his_ memory, though. An ancient memory, a creature that wasn't even close to human looking but held an aura of power that made Peter think he might have been a sorcerer of some kind. Like Strange, and Wong.

He didn't have a lot of time to think about that, though. The Mind stone was prodding him into action, and Peter couldn't have refused if he wanted to. He felt a build up of magical energies within himself, felt the Mind stone guiding him in how to use it, and felt the soul stone – which tingled, even on the Astral plane – holding close, as if it were waiting. Further from those two stones, he felt an echo of the others, and was amazed at the power they possessed.

The energy built for another long moment and then Peter uttered a word – he didn't know what – and suddenly felt everything pour out of him, compressed and then tightening, until he felt like he was going to implode, the power was so pure and so intense. He screamed, silently, and the white became incandescent until it seemed to be his entire world.

Then he felt a wrenching, deep within himself, and felt nothing.

OOOOOO

They'd dozed off. Holding Peter, and over him, holding each other. Tony on one side, and Pepper on the other. Both refusing to let Peter face whatever was going to happen alone. The toddler had fallen into a restless sleep, the pacifier had fallen from his mouth and he'd replaced it with his thumb.

He shifted a little, and Tony moved, reflexively, his hand going to the baby's back and rubbing it, tenderly.

"You're okay," he whispered, not opening his eyes. "I've got you."

There was suddenly a light – like a thousand candles that had no heat – and suddenly Tony and Pepper were both forced backward away from the middle of their bed to tumble to the floor on either side. Tony lurched to his feet, his tired mind screaming that something terrible must have happened and looking for the threat. Pepper took a moment longer to regain hers, and they both looked at each other, and then at the bed.

Where the toddler had been, there was now a much larger shape. The blanket obscured the body, but there was no mistaking the face. Tony surged forward, his heart making a glad leap, his hand going instantly to the sleeping form, and from her side of the bed, Pepper did almost the exact same thing.

"_Peter!"_


	39. Chapter 39

He didn't stir at the sound of his name, and Tony pulled down the blanket that they'd had the toddler version, looking automatically for blood or some kind of injury.

"Oops."

Pepper looked away, quickly. Peter was naked. And he _wasn't_ two, anymore.

Tony covered him back up, smiling at her reaction. And because he felt a surge of relief that was more euphoric that any drug ever made or even _thought_ of.

"It's _him_."

She smiled, too, tears welling up in her eyes, which she wiped away.

"I'll get him something to wear."

"Yeah." Stark ran his hand along the boy's hair, and then his cheek. "Peter?"

The boy shifted, and rolled a little, opening his eyes. Then he looked around, obviously noticing that he wasn't in his room – but from his next words, it was clear that he wasn't completely awake, or adjusted.

"Tony? Did I sleepwalk?"

Tony couldn't help it, he got back onto the bed, completely, and pressed himself against Peter, his arm pulling the boy close and his eyes filling with tears.

"Thank God…" he murmured, gathering him in his arms and pressing his cheek against Peter's. "Are you alright? Do you hurt?"

Peter suddenly seemed to remember what had happened – or more likely, he woke up a bit more – because he turned and his arms went around Tony, as well, his head going to his chest.

"No," he murmured. "I'm okay. You?"

"I am, now."

"Peter…"

They both turned and saw Pepper had returned from the other side of the room, and was now holding a pair of sweats out to him, tears rolling down her cheeks at the sight of Tony clutching Peter so closely. The boy took the clothing from her, but he was covered by the blanket enough to save his modesty, and he reached for her hand and pulled her onto the bed without a word, needing more than anything just then to be held by them.

Which they, of course, were more than willing to do. Tears soaked Peter's bare shoulders as they held him from either side, bracketing him with their support and their love. He alternated between putting his head on one's shoulder, and then the other's, and found that there were several kisses pressed against both of his tear-smeared cheeks.

"No pain?" Tony finally asked, pulling away just a little and looking down at him. The blanket was down to his waist, now, because he was sitting upright, and Stark was looking for cruising or blood and not finding either. "No headaches or anything inside?"

"No…" he hesitated. "There are some weird flashes, that _might_ be memories, but I don't know, for certain. They aren't mine, anyway."

"Maybe the little version of you?" Pepper asked, hugging him again before letting him go, as well – even though she couldn't stop looking at him.

"Maybe," he conceded. "He's _me_, after all. But they seem to be fading."

"Do you remember Tony dropping you on your head into a mudpuddle?" she asked, smiling.

Peter looked over at Stark.

"You _dropped_ him? I mean, _me_? Him. That's _so_ confusing."

"You're a squirmy little kid," Stark said, good-naturedly. "And my hands were wet."

"But cute?" Peter asked, smiling.

"Absolutely adorable," Pepper confirmed. "We have all kinds of pictures and videos."

"Doctor Strange said that you were going to. They must have figured it out, then?"

"We haven't heard from them in a few days," Tony replied. "The last we knew they were starting over to try to find the problem to get the fix."

Peter looked down at his wrist, and frowned.

"My watch is gone."

"It's here. Stephen brought it back to us," Pepper told him. She looked at Tony. "You need to call him, so they know what's happened."

"Yes." He turned to Peter. "I have a special project for you, though, if you're feeling up to it?"

"Yeah. Anything."

The billionaire smiled, and turned to Pepper.

"Close your eyes, Pep. Peter needs to get some pants on."

OOOOOOO

The two magicians were still sitting at the table in the library an hour after they had decided on their solution. Both were too tired to really get up, just then, but more importantly, they were waiting for some indication that they had been right. Wong looked over when Stephen's watch chimed at him, and the doctor pressed the button, immediately.

"Tony?"

"_You did it."_

There was no mistaking the relief in Stark's voice and Strange grinned, and slapped Wong on the shoulder, relieved and happy.

"He's _there_?"

"_Yeah."_

"Is he alright?"

"_Seems to be. Took him a minute to wake up – he asked if he'd been sleepwalking – but then he remembered everything, at least from his side of things. He has some residuals of the little guy, too, but he said they seem to be fading a little."_

"That's good news."

"_Yeah. Come see him tomorrow – you and Wong, both – we'll have a party."_

Strange looked over at the other magician, and Wong nodded.

"We'll be there. But I'm going to get some sleep, first."

"_You do that. Thanks."_

"We're just glad everything worked out."

"_Ditto."_

The call went dead, and Strange looked at Wong.

"How about that? Score one for the sorcerers."

Wong nodded with satisfaction, and the Cloak of Levitation even seemed to be celebrating, caressing Strange's cheek.

"I'm going to make a sandwich, and then sleep for a while," Wong told him.

"So am I."

They could, now.

OOOOOO

Natasha roused, sleepily, when he crawled under blankets. It was such a common occurrence, that she had already pulled the blankets back and had gathered his warm body against her side to cuddle him before she realized what was happening. Her eyes flew open and she sat up, reaching for the button that turned on the light on the stand beside her bed.

Sure enough, Peter was in her bed, wearing a pair of too baggy sweats and a t-shirt that said MIT on it. He smiled, his eyes warm and pleased at the surprise on her face.

"Peter!"

"Hey, Natasha. I heard you were looking for someone to cuddle with, and wondered if I could apply?"

With a happy cry, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling his head down to her shoulder and hugging him tight. Peter returned the hug just as happily, and if he thought that he was done crying, he was proven wrong. Of course, she was soaking him, as well, so it was only fair.

"When did – it worked, then? Stephen and Wong found the problem?"

"I haven't talked to them, yet," he admitted. "Tony sent me to surprise you and said he would call them and tell them I'm okay, and invite them out tomorrow to verify I'm all here, still."

She pressed her lips against his cheek, and then against his lips, too, feeling the heavy weight that had been dragging her down the past week suddenly lifted.

"I missed you, baby."

"From what I understand, you had someone else to keep you company."

"I did – and he was _adorable_. I can't wait to show you the pictures and videos."

"It can wait until tomorrow, though, right?" he asked. "Tony and Pepper said I have to find them first thing tomorrow, but I was hoping you'd be okay with me sleeping with you, tonight?"

She nodded, and patted the spot beside her, moving the black teddy bear that she had been holding before he'd woken her.

"Of course you can," she replied. "I'd be too excited to sleep, otherwise, worried that I'd dreamed you."

He smiled and settled beside her, like he had a million times before, and tucked his head against her collarbone with a sigh of content.

"I missed you."

"Oh, I missed you, too."

He fell asleep almost immediately, as if only the excitement of the surprise was what had kept him awake – or maybe he was just waiting to be in her arms and safe. Whatever it was, Natasha didn't mind. She closed her eyes, just starting to fall asleep again when she suddenly felt his hand on her breast.

Her eyes opened, but the soft snore coming from the boy told her that he was soundly sleeping.

Romanoff smiled, remembering what Stephen had said about the little guy being a part of Peter and deciding that maybe they weren't quite one person, yet.

"That's fine, baby," she whispered. "But we're not letting it go any further."

She'd get him a pacifier, first.

He didn't answer, and she shifted her grip on him and went to sleep.


	40. Chapter 40

Natasha woke before Peter. Not surprising, really; she was excited and relieved to have him restored to them, and Peter seemed to be exhausted. The morning light coming into the room from her window provided her plenty of opportunity to watch him sleep, and she did just that, checking his face for any sign that he was different than he had been, or that there were any indications of discomfort that he hadn't mentioned the night before.

She didn't see anything. He looked perfect, to her.

Smiling, she wondered if the others knew he was back. A glance at her watch told her that it was still early, but she knew they'd all be awake. She reached over and picked up her ear bug and activated it, speaking softly to avoid waking Peter, but knowing that it was going to be inevitable in a few minutes.

Despite the fact that Steve's quarters were right next door to her own, Barton arrived first. His relieved smile when he saw the boy asleep in her bed made Natasha smile, too.

"Is he hurt at all?" Clint asked.

"Not as far as I can tell. He said he didn't hurt when he woke me up last night."

"I guess I won't be offended that he crawled into _your_ bed and not mine," Clint said with a smile, moving over to the bed and giving Natasha all the warning that she needed to get herself out of the way.

She smiled and went into her closet to get a uniform on – even though she was pretty sure they weren't going to get anything accomplished that day – and heard the scuffle begin on the bed while she changed. By the time she had gotten out of her sleepwear and into something a little more appropriate for company, Clint had Peter under him, tangled in the blankets and was flicking his ear with the hand that wasn't holding the boy down.

"And _that's_ for scaring us," Clint told Peter, who was trying to squirm away but couldn't get any kind of leverage. "And _this_ one is for using those big brown eyes of yours to get your way all the time." Another flick to the ear. "And _this_-"

He was interrupted by the arrival of Steve, who had obviously been out running to judge from the sweats and t-shirt he was wearing. The archer found himself suddenly tackled from the side and tossed off Peter and onto the far side of the bed. Peter laughed when Steve hugged him, briefly, and then the two of them moved to attack Barton, who found himself buried under the combined weight of Steve and Peter, even though Peter was still tangled in the blankets and his weight was fairly negligible in the first place.

Romanoff watched for a moment, but fair was fair and two on one wasn't fair. Besides, even though a wrestling match was more for the boys, she was feeling giddy with relief and happiness, and she dove into the fray, landing on Steve's back, her momentum sending all four of them off the bed and tumbling to the floor.

"Why am I not surprised…?"

They all looked up at the amused drawl, and saw that Stephen Strange had walked into Natasha's room without any of them noticing. He was looking down at the fray, his expression amused. Peter was on the bottom of the pile, with the other three in various awkward positions sprawled on top of him. He didn't look like he was suffering from it, though, as he looked up and gave Strange an innocent look.

"_Clint_ started it. I was asleep – minding my own business."

"I was just rescuing _Peter_," Steve added.

The doctor looked at Natasha, who rolled off Rogers and graced him with her best smile and a shrug.

"Three cute guys in a dogpile? I don't need to explain myself."

He stepped forward and offered her his hand, which she took so he could pull her to her feet as the other three untangled themselves from each other and from Natasha's blankets. Steve pulled Peter to his feet and hugged him, again.

"I'm so glad to see you," Rogers said, ruffling the boy's hair while Clint got to his feet as well. "Tony knows?"

"That's where I woke up," Peter confirmed. He looked over at Strange, who looked tired, despite being dressed as sharply as ever. "It _worked_."

The doctor pulled the boy into a rough embrace and held him for a very long time. Natasha nudged Clint, who grinned. Strange always acted like he was above such things as gooey feelings towards the others, but Natasha – of course – knew that they were _there_, and that Stephen cared very much about Peter. Peter knew it, too, even though the magician wasn't very demonstrative of it. He held Strange tightly until the doctor finally pulled away, clearing his throat and looking the boy over.

"No headaches? No injuries?"

"No."

"Weakness? Lethargy?"

"I feel good."

Confirmed by the wrestling match that he'd just walked in on.

"And you'll tell me if that _changes_, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"Where's Wong?" Peter asked. "Tony told me he was going to invite both of you guys."

"Still asleep." Strange shrugged. "I wanted to come and check on you – to make sure you're alright. We'll be back later for the party, I imagine."

"You'll stay for breakfast?" Steve asked.

"Yes."

"I need to go change," Rogers said, looking down at himself. "I'll meet you guys in the lounge."

"Me, too," Peter agreed.

He was still wearing the clothes borrowed from Tony, and they didn't fit well – although he _liked_ the MIT shirt and wondered if Tony would notice if it didn't get returned to his laundry.

Natasha pulled him into her arms, again, and held him tight – Peter was well aware that he was going to be finding himself in a similar position a lot the next few days, but he didn't mind at all. He hugged her close, putting his head against her neck and allowing her to steal as much love that he could give her. She kissed his cheek and let him go.

"We'll see you in the lounge, too. Don't take too long, okay?"

"I won't."

He left, with Steve and Clint, and Romanoff turned to Strange, who put his arms around her, glad to see her happy and relieved.

"He seems fine."

"He's perfect."

"Did you speak with him? Does he have any memories about being young?"

The researcher in him was curious, of course. He and Wong were going to be adding this to the knowledge in the sanctums, to avoid having something similar happen again.

"He told me he was getting flashes of memories that he knew weren't his own. I suppose it could be the Mind stone, right?"

"It _could_." He smiled, kissing her forehead. "Does he remember what he did to you, is the question…"

She knew immediately what he meant, and she pulled out of his arms with a grin.

"I didn't ask – and I forbid _you_ to, either. He'd probably be so embarrassed that he'd avoid me for weeks, if not more."

"I won't," Strange promised. "But it doesn't mean I'm not curious."

"Well, he'll bear watching for a while, I suppose."

"Definitely." He took a deep breath, feeling a little giddy, himself. "Why don't we go see if Tony's in the lounge?"


	41. Chapter 41

Tony and Pepper were both in the lounge when Natasha and Strange arrived. Tony stood up when they walked over and to everyone's surprise, he hugged Strange, tightly. The doctor smiled, returning it, and understanding completely. He was surprised, though, by the feeling affection for Stark bubbling out of him. Who'd have ever thought it? An _Avenger_ being the closest thing to a brother that he'd ever had? Especially one as annoying as Tony Stark.

"Have you seen him, yet?" Tony asked, letting the magician go.

"Just now," Strange said, smiling when Pepper hugged him, too. That one was a lot more comfortable, and he put his arms around her and held her close. "He said he was going to change and then come meet us for breakfast."

"He looks okay?"

"He looks great, Tony."

Stark looked at Romanoff.

"How did he sleep?"

"Soundly," she assured him, sitting down. She smiled. "Thank you for sending him to me. It was a wonderful surprise."

He nodded.

"I figured you could appreciate it." He took a deep breath and let it out, slowly. "I can't even tell you how relieved I am."

"I know. Me, too."

Everyone sat down.

"Where's Wong?"

"He's at the sanctum. He'll be here, though, later. Like I was telling Natasha, I wanted to come early and check on Peter."

And everyone else, of course.

The others started arriving then, but the first one through the door was Bruce, who looked confused and hopeful. He walked over to the table, looking around.

"I thought I heard that _Peter's_ back," he said. "Is it true? Where is he?"

"It's true," Tony confirmed. "Our fine magicians figured it all out and he popped into our bed in the wee hours of the night, last night."

"He's changing, Bruce," Pepper told him, gesturing for him to sit down. "He shouldn't be too long. Come have breakfast."

He did as he was told, and pulled another table over so they could push them together, making more space for the others when they arrived, as well. Clint joined them a moment later, walking over with Steve. Both men were smiling, and both were relieved to see the stress that had been lining Stark's face was noticeably absent.

There was another round of greetings, and happy hugs as they all congratulated Strange on finding the cure. The doctor shrugged, relieved at the cure, but unwilling to take all the credit.

"Wong and I just solved the mystery," he told them, cups of coffee appearing front of each of them. "You guys are the ones who took care of Peter and gave us the time we needed."

"Oh, my God…" Bruce had noticed a movement at the entrance to the lounge and had stumbled to his feet when Peter walked in. "He looks good."

"What did you expect?" Tony asked, curiously.

"I don't know." Bruce admitted, hurrying over to Peter and putting his arms around the boy, cheerfully, slapping him on the back, repeatedly.

The others watched with varying degrees of amusement as Peter and Bruce exchanged a few words, and another hug before walking over to the table. Only then did Bruce let him go so the boy could take the seat between Pepper and Tony. Peter looked at both of them and good-naturedly smiled when Pepper hugged him, again, unable to help herself. He didn't mind. He held her as tightly as she was holding him.

"_Momma_…" he murmured, softly, the word spilling from his lips before he could stop them, or even understand why it immediately sprang to mind.

Tony's eyes filled with tears and Pepper sobbed into Peter's hair, her hand coming up and holding his head close. Natasha took the tissue that suddenly appeared in Strange's hand, along with a box of them that landed on the middle of the table, and had to wipe her eyes, too.

"Oh, _Peter_…" Pepper whispered, brokenly. "I was so afraid we were going to lose you."

"I'm harder to lose than that," he assured her, gently. "But for the record, I didn't touch _anything_."

She laughed, and was finally able to pull away from his embrace, reaching for the tissue Tony offered her. Her hand brushed his cheek and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"What _did_ happen, Stephen?" Tony asked, curiously, bringing his hand up to rest on Peter's shoulder. "You guys figured it out, right?"

"Yes."

Strange told the group what he and Wong had discovered, pointing out that the chances of so many different things happening in the order that they had was so remote that Peter had a better chance of winning the lottery thirteen times before it could ever happen again.

"So we just don't let him play the lottery, and everything will be fine," Clint said, shrugging.

"Exactly."

They ordered up breakfast, still grilling Strange about the incident, but Peter wasn't really listening, now. His attention went to the blanket in the corner closest to them, and all the toys that were strewn about – mostly blocks and cars, he saw.

"Was he… I mean, was _I_ a pain?" he asked Tony, although everyone heard the question.

"He was _two_," Tony reminded him. "Of course, he was. But he was a lot of fun, too." He brushed his hand against the boy's cheek. "A lot like you are, now, really – come to think of it."

That made Peter smile, and Pepper touched his hand.

"We had a lot of help. Clint, especially, since he's been through that stage a couple of times."

"Three," Natasha corrected. "If you count his own."

"We have videos and a lot of pictures," Pepper told him.

Barton's eyes lit up.

"We should do some of those recreations," he suggested. "You know? The ones where mom and dad pull out the old picture of them holding the baby, and then they get in the same position now that the kids are grown up, and take it again. They're hilarious."

Peter frowned.

"How about I _see_ the pictures before I agree to any of that?"

"I'd say that's a good idea," Tony agreed. "Especially if I'm in any of them."

He pulled out his phone, though, and wasn't the only one to do it. Between the adults at the table, the only ones who didn't have a photographic record of things that Peter had done in toddler form were Dr. Strange, who hadn't bothered since he knew the others would have plenty to share and was too busy trying to solve the problem, and Steve, who wasn't that adept at the camera part of his phone, anyway. His digital shots usually ended up blurry and tended to look more like a bigfoot photo than anything.

"You," Tony said, handing his phone to Peter, who looked at the photo that Stark had brought up.

He recognized the child, of course. How many times had he watched the video that his mom and dad had made him from when he was a baby? He'd been toddler age in a couple of those scenes. Peter shook his head, though, amazed. Because now that same little boy was being held by Pepper, his little hand clutching her shirt for balance and both of them smiling at the camera.

"That's _crazy_…"

"I know, right?"

Another shot; and this time it was Tony holding him – although the toddler was now upside down and there was just the slightest look of panic in Tony's expression.

"Is that when you dropped me?" he asked, making everyone smile.

"You heard about that?" Natasha asked, amused.

"No, that was outside," Stark said. "And for the record. You _jumped_."

"Twice?" Pepper asked.

Peter looked over at them.

"Did I… I mean, did he… could he do what I can?"

"Climb walls, you mean?" Tony asked.

"Yeah."

"Climbed right up," Stark confirmed. "And then had to be rescued because you couldn't figure out how to get back down, apparently."

Peter smiled.

"Really?"

"Oh, you screamed and cried," Pepper confirmed. "Tony had to climb up on the bed to get you, and then you wouldn't let go of him."

"Poor baby…" Natasha said, softly, smiling.

"We have a ton of stories we can tell you," Tony assured the boy. "I don't know that you'll want to hear them all, but there are a lot. You're not going to live this one down for a while."

Peter started to say something, but was distracted when Natasha held her phone in front of him, and he looked at the picture. It was him – the _toddler_ him, of course – sitting in Strange's lap, looking up at him with tears in his eyes and a sad little face. The doctor looked resigned in the photo and it made Peter smile.

He hesitated, another flash of memory distracting him.

"I wanted ice cream."

Strange rolled his eyes when Romanoff turned the phone so he could see.

"No. You _demanded_ ice cream," he corrected.

"And Stephen folded like a sheet in the laundry pile," Stark told him, smiling.

"Really?"

"It was a moment of weakness," Strange told them.

"Please tell me we can _recreate_ this one," Clint said, hopefully.

The doctor rolled his eyes, even as Natasha looked at Peter and Stephen, speculatively.

"Oh, no…" Peter replied, shaking his head.

He'd do anything for Natasha, but that was pushing things.


	42. Chapter 42

"Wow… it's a bit much, isn't it?"

Tony and Pepper looked over Peter's shoulder at the closet that had been converted into sleeping space for his toddler self.

"We wanted to make sure he had everything that he needed," Tony pointed out. "And we weren't really sure, yet, what that was."

"A lot of _Ironman_ things," Peter noted with a sidelong glance at Stark.

He shrugged.

"A few. They were on _sale_."

The boy walked into the room, looking around, and up at the ceiling. Pepper wondered as they watched him if he was remembering getting stuck up there and needing to be rescued.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"We'll pack it up and send it to charities. Someone can use it, I'm sure," Tony replied.

He watched as Peter nodded, and then the boy glanced over at the bed and leaned down to pick up a somewhat ratty looking stuffed Ironman doll from the bed where it had lain, forgotten.

"I'm going to keep this," Peter told them, a little defensively, as if expecting them to tell him that he couldn't – or maybe make a comment about him wanting a child's toy. He wasn't sure why he was drawn to it, but he _was_. "If you don't care?"

Pepper nodded, now, and her smile was unfathomable.

"You _should_. I'm going to keep a few things, myself."

He put the doll in his back pocket and turned back to them.

"I love you guys. You know that, right?"

They _did_. They stepped forward and held him. They couldn't get enough of holding him, just then, and he didn't mind, because he _wanted_ them holding him. He had been pretty shaken, of course, and they were the foundation that he could use to steady himself on. It was a long time before he finally pulled away, and neither of them looked like they minded.

"You look tired," Tony told him.

"It's been a long day."

And it wasn't even noon, yet.

He'd had breakfast with the others, greeting a few people who came by to see him and verify that he was alright, and had looked through the pictures that they had of him. He'd avoided any of the videos, yet, but there were a lot of those, too, he was assured. Not surprisingly, really, when he thought of who they were, after all.

Then Strange had excused himself, complaining that he was still a bit worn out and was going to head back to the sanctum to get more sleep. He promised that he'd make sure he and Wong would be at the compound in plenty of time for the barbeque that Tony has set into motion for that afternoon. Steve had left to go make sure his recruits weren't running amok in his absence and Clint had gone, too. Both had cheerfully teased Peter before going. Natasha stayed a little longer, but when Peter asked where they'd had the younger version of him sleeping, she'd declined the invitation to go show him the made-over closet and had said that she'd see them at the barbeque as well.

"Go get some sleep," Stark suggested. "Or sack out _here_, if you'd like."

Peter was tempted to do just that. He felt worn out. Either from the whole turning into a little kid thing, or the emotional reunions that had been almost nonstop, he didn't know – and it didn't matter. Tony and Pepper both looked tired, too, and he had a feeling that if he'd ask, they would let him crawl into their bed and would hold him from both sides, bracketing him with warmth, love and comfort while they all caught up on some sleep. He really wanted that, just then, but wasn't sure how to ask.

"You'd stay?"

"Of course." Tony put a hand on his shoulder, reading him so well, and knowing what he wanted, even though he was probably reluctant to ask. Teen Peter wasn't _nearly_ as demanding as toddler Peter had been. "Come on. I could use a nap, too."

He turned the boy toward the bed, and looked over Peter's shoulder at Pepper, who smiled and stepped up to the other side.

"It's not that I _need_ to be cuddled," Peter pointed out as Stark pushed him down onto the bed and he scooted up to the pillows, closing his eyes almost immediately. "I mean, I'm not _two_, anymore, you know?"

"We know," Tony assured him, watching as Pepper stretched out beside Peter, and put her arm over him, her hand idly caressing his hair. He pulled a comforter and draped it over them before slipping in beside the boy, too, and joining the cuddle-fest, putting Peter between them and smiling at each other, warmly. "It's just easier than walking all the way back to your room, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, agreeing, already more asleep than awake, now. "Just _easier_."

He was turned toward Pepper, but reached blindly behind him to find Stark's hand and bring it over him, holding onto him, as well. Tony held him, easily, knowing that he'd better enjoy it, since Peter wasn't two anymore, like he'd said, and there weren't going to be a lot more of these opportunities.

"Go to sleep, son," he whispered, closing his eyes and relaxing when he felt Pepper find the hand Peter had drawn over his side. He squeezed it, silently reminding her that he loved her, and felt Peter go still as he fell asleep. "We'll be here when you wake up."

Pepper was in the perfect position to watch as Peter fell asleep, first, and then Tony followed close behind. She smiled, shifting her head on the pillow just a little to give herself a better view of Tony, and had to force herself not to reach out and touch his face. He looked tired, yes, but so relieved, and she felt a gentle wave of love for the two men in her life wash over her. She had enjoyed the toddler, and had loved him, but she had fallen in love with the teen version, first, and was so very glad to have him back. Even if it meant there wouldn't be as many hugs and kisses and whispers of momma in the night.

She leaned forward and very carefully pressed a kiss against his forehead and then she went to sleep, too.

OOOOOO

Strange was surprised to find Wong awake when he returned to the sanctum. He'd expected him to still be in bed – which was where he was headed as soon as possible. Instead, Wong had been in the kitchen, finishing breakfast, and the cloak came swooshing in when Strange arrived, not attaching itself to his collar, but clearly wanting to know what had happened.

"You saw him?" Wong asked.

"I did," Strange confirmed with a smile. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot Wong had made. "He looks _fine_. Everyone says thank you and I'm to remind you that we're invited to the compound for festivities this afternoon."

The other man grunted his agreement. He'd be there. He wanted to check on Peter, personally, and maybe hear what it had been like.

"Does he have any residual memories of the toddler?"

"Yes. He mentioned they come in flashes, but they'll probably fade in time. So if you want to interrogate him about it, you'll want to do it as soon as he's up for it."

"I will. Stark?"

"He's fine, too. Relieved, like the rest of them."

"I'm relieved, too."

"Yes." Strange smiled. "I'm going to get some sleep. Make sure you're ready to go by 12:30 or so, otherwise we'll probably have a wave of Avengers crashing into the sanctum wall to come get us."

The other magician smiled.

"They'd probably do it, too, wouldn't they?"

"I wouldn't put it past them." He turned toward the door, coffee cup still in hand. "Good night."

"Yeah."

Wong watched him leave, and looked at the cloak, which was still hovering.

"Are you coming with us to see Peter?"

The slap on his shoulder was quick, leaving no doubt at all. Wong grunted, and was quiet, already thinking about the questions he wanted to ask the boy, and hoping to see the pictures the Avengers had taken of the toddler.

Time enough for that, later, he supposed.


	43. Chapter 43

He wasn't alone when he woke. They were still with him, although _they_ were both awake and simply lazing in the bed, talking softly while they allowed themselves a chance to recharge and regroup after their own participation in the events of the last week and a half or so. Peter stretched as he woke, opening his eyes and looking up at Pepper, first, and then Tony.

"Hey, sunshine," Stark said, smiling down at him. "Feeling better?"

The boy sighed, and to Pepper's delight, tucked himself against her, cuddling close with his head in her side and closing his eyes, stealing a little more rest and a lot more loving. She smiled down at him, her hand going to his cheek.

"_I'm sleepy."_

"Too sleepy for a party?" Tony asked, smiling at the sight of the two people that he loved most in the world so close together and comfortable with each other.

"No." He didn't open his eyes, though. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

"When is the barbeque?"

"Whenever we get there."

Meaning that there was no hurry. Stark wasn't going to make the boy get up if he wasn't feeling up to it, yet. He and Pepper weren't in any hurry to do more than spend time with him, and they could do that in their quarters just as easily as they could in the field surrounded with the others.

Peter recognized that, and perversely, it made him open his eyes. He didn't want to be the one keeping them from getting up, and he knew that they'd stay with him all day if he asked them to do so. He pulled away from Pepper's side, reluctantly, and sat up, rubbing his face.

"I should get up."

"Come to the field when you're ready," Tony told him, reaching out and resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "We'll save you a spot."

He nodded and impishly rolled over Tony to get himself out of their bed, making Pepper smile. They watched him leave their bedroom and she took his hand.

"He's not quite back, yet, is he?"

"No. I think you're right. There's still some of the little guy in him." They had both seen him check his pocket for the Ironman doll as he'd left. "We'll keep an eye on him the next few days, Pep. Besides, I hope he's a little clingy, at least for the next few days. I have a feeling that _I'm_ going to be just as bad – if not worse."

"Me, too," she admitted. Pepper got off the bed – going the same route Peter did and rolling over Tony, who chuckled. "Come on, daddy," she told him. "I want to be there when Stephen arrives and watch him struggle with being happy that Peter's back and celebrating that return with a _barbeque_."

"I didn't even think about that," Tony admitted. "It's his party, too. I suppose we could have had something _inside_."

"He'll live."

Besides, it would be far more amusing this way.

OOOOOOOO

The two sorcerers appeared in the corridor outside of Peter's quarters – Strange's traditional _landing_ spot. They had barely materialized and Wong had only just had a chance to realize where they were when the Cloak of Levitation detached from Strange's collar and whisked off down the hall, away from Peter's door.

"Where's it going?" Wong asked.

"My guess would be it's going to go find Peter."

Where Peter was, Natasha almost certainly was, Stephen decided, also walking that direction, with Wong beside him. Besides, he recognized that it was heading for the door closest to the field where Tony usually had the barbeques set up.

"That should be fun."

"Agreed."

OOOOOO

Peter had appeared at the door leading out of the compound only a short time after waking up. He'd stopped in his room long enough to drop off the Ironman doll – to make sure he didn't lose it. When he did, he saw his watch sitting on his coffee table and picked it up. It had been sitting on a piece of paper with Tony's neat handwriting.

_I love you_

He smiled, and put the watch on, rolling his wrist to settle it back in its normal spot. Then he activated the web shooter, just to check the action. It was smooth and without an indication of jerkiness or hesitation. He shot a quick web at the wall, and then released it to go back into the watch. That was working just fine, anyway.

Peter didn't stay in his quarters. He didn't need anything for the barbeque, and the sunlight coming through the bedroom window told him that the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing would probably be more than enough. If it got cold, later, he could always go get a jacket or sweatshirt, after all.

When he walked out the door a few minutes later, he saw that the festivities were just getting underway, and that he'd somehow beat Tony and Pepper - and pretty much everyone - there. Steve was organizing a few people at the grills, and there were two large coolers that Peter knew were usually used to hold the raw meats; steaks, chicken and even pork chops that would all be grilled by the end of the day. There were several tables with coolers on them, placed there and empty for the moment, but Peter knew would be filled with the side dishes, like potato salad, macaroni salad, jello-o and a huge variety of food to choose from. The other tables would hold desserts of every sort, and there were ice chests with beer and colas and bottled water at the end of every table. It was Thursday, and there would be plenty of people at the compound, so he knew it'd all be gone by the end of the night.

He waved at the people setting up the volleyball net as he walked over to Steve, who grinned at him and couldn't stop himself from putting an arm over Peter's shoulder as he watched the coals catch in the grill he was preparing.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. I took a nap," he admitted.

"I don't blame you. Why don't you help me finish this?"

"Sure."

Rogers put him to work getting the grills ready and making sure that the coals were the right consistency and spread equally, but before he could do much more than that, Peter found himself engulfed in hugs from Natasha and Clint, who had come looking for him. They stole him away from Steve, who grumbled good-naturedly about losing his best helper, and then waved them all away, telling them not to go too far, he'd want Peter later for himself.

"How do you feel?" Natasha asked, as they walked over toward one of the many tables that had been set up on the edge of the field.

"I'm good."

"No urges to be picked up and _carried_?" Clint asked, with a smile. "I mean, you're not _two_ anymore, but you're pretty _scrawny_, still. It could probably be arranged."

Peter grinned, recognizing that Barton was basically trying to start their next wrestling match. He was more than willing, and rushed Clint, wrapping his arms around him to tackle him to the ground. The archer laughed and met the attack, and suddenly both of them were engulfed by a heavy piece of ultra excited fabric that swooped in and wrapped itself around Peter (and Clint by proxy) so quickly that they were thrown off balance and went down under the happy assault. They didn't quite hit the grass – the cloak was called a Cloak of Levitation for a reason, after all – and he and Clint found themselves hovering about two inches off the ground. Barton snorted at the odd sensation, but Peter couldn't even focus on how cool that was over the cheerful crooning that was almost overwhelming his mind.

Romanoff smiled as the boys struggled to right themselves under the cloak, and turned to see where Stephen was, knowing if the ancient relic was there, then the sorcerer supreme couldn't be far away. Sure enough, a minute after Peter and Clint went down, Strange and Wong both walked out of the compound into the early afternoon sunshine.

Both men walked over and Strange shook his head at the sight of the cloak hugging Peter and Clint helplessly caught up in the artifact's cheerful greeting with the boy.

"I probably don't want to know…"

Natasha shook her head.

"Probably not." She hugged Wong in greeting, glad that the other magician had decided to join them, when he didn't often. "Let's get a table and something to drink."

Clint and Peter would join them. Eventually.


	44. Chapter 44

Fifteen minutes later, Pepper and Tony walked out of the compound and into the bright sunshine that was bathing the field. They both looked at the tangled mess that was Peter and Clint, trying to free themselves from the cloak – which had them hovering just far enough off the ground that neither of them could get leverage. It didn't seem to be in any hurry to let Peter up, and vicariously, it was holding Clint prisoner, as well.

"Do we help?" Pepper asked, amused.

"Peter? Are you okay?" Stark asked as they walked by.

A hand came out of the fabric and gave him a thumbs-up and Tony shrugged.

"There you go. He'll be fine, I imagine. The thing won't let him get hurt. There's Stephen and Romanoff."

They walked over and claimed spots at the same table the other two were sitting at. Natasha had iced tea in front of her, but Strange was drinking a beer. Wong had wandered over to watch the grill with Steve, and the two were alternating between watching the coals and every now and then glancing over at the burrito that was Peter, Clint and the cloak.

"Are you aware your magic carpet has apparently taken my son and one of my Avengers _hostage_?" Tony asked, pulling out a chair for Pepper before sitting across from the magician.

"Hostage implies that it wants something in exchange for their _return_," Strange pointed out. "I'm assuming it's planning on keeping them."

"It understands that Clint has _three_ kids? One of them is fairly close to the same age you just rescued Peter from. If he doesn't come home, they'll come looking – sticky fingers and all."

"I'll talk to it in a while." He studied the two in front of him. "You both look much better."

"Solid sleep will do that. I recommend it," Stark told him. "You look beat."

"I am. When your party is over, here, I plan on sleeping for a few days."

"Wong, too?"

"Probably."

"Need us to put guards on the sanctum for you?"

Strange shook his head, smirking.

"That isn't necessary. If something comes up, the sanctum will alert us."

"Or the cloak, maybe?" Pepper asked.

"It has before, yes."

Before they could reply, Peter and Clint suddenly came tumbling out of the cloak, with both of them falling to the ground – although Peter landed on Clint with a soft _oof_ noise and the archer rolled under him, reaching out and pulling on Peter's arm to pin the boy under him. He held him there for just a minute – none of the people sitting at the table could hear what passed between them, although Peter grinned and nodded. Then Barton got to his feet and pulled Peter up. The cloak wrapped itself around the boy's shoulder and they walked over to the table the others were sitting at.

"Gave up?" Pepper asked.

"I think it got tired of supporting Clint," Peter said with a smile, taking a seat between Natasha and Stark so he could look at her. "Someone's been eating a few extra desserts."

Clint pretended to take a swipe at the boy, smiling as he sat down, but Wong and Steve walked over and joined them before the archer could reply. The boy stood up, greeting Wong with a cheerful hug, which was returned with sincere affection.

"I'm glad you're alright."

"Thanks to you and Dr. Strange."

"There's enough credit to go around." The magician released the boy, ruffling his hair when he did, and they all sat down. "I do want to see some pictures, though."

Peter looked at the others. He didn't have any to share, but everyone except Strange pulled out their phones and started showing what looked to be hours worth of slide-shows to Wong, explaining the story behind each. The sorcerer would smile, and look over at Peter, who would blush and shrug. He couldn't be held accountable for what his much younger self did, after all.

Pepper explained to Wong – and to Peter – how the toddler ended up with so many more clothes than one little boy could wear; pointing out that Tony and Steve were having a little battle of the clothing and bringing up pictures in young Peter dressed several times in Ironman outfits, and many times with Captain America appearing somewhere on his clothing or accessories.

"Everyone knows _Ironman_ is the kid's favorite," Tony stated, looking over at Peter for confirmation.

"Not a chance," Steve proclaimed. "You dropped him on his _head_. That is points against you, right Peter?"

The boy smiled and held up his hands in surrender, but before he could say anything, a hand came down on his shoulder and he looked up and saw that Nick Fury had joined them at their table.

"Peter. Can I have a minute of your time, please?"

"Yeah, of course."

He got up and the good-natured arguing continued behind him as he walked over to one of the grills, where they could talk without the background noise of Tony explaining to Steve that it was only natural for Peter to like Ironman best – in all ages. He was so similar to the boy; smart, good-looking and tech savvy. Steve's retort must have been a good one, because everyone laughed, but Peter hadn't heard it.

"How are you feeling?" Fury asked him, looking him over, carefully.

"I'm okay. A little tired, sometimes."

"No lingering issues?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm glad you're alright. If you need anything, you know that you can ask, right?"

He hadn't, of course, but the boy smiled and nodded, feeling a little warm and fuzzy inside.

"Thanks, Nick."

Surprising the boy, the former director of SHIELD pulled him into a hug, holding him for a long moment before clearing his throat and letting him go.

"Go back to your party, Peter," he said, brusquely. "I'm going to find something to drink."

Peter smiled and did what he was told, returning to the table still smiling. Tony turned to him, and Peter expected him to ask what Fury had wanted. Instead, Stark made it clear that he and Steve were worried about a different topic, entirely.

"Okay, Peter. You need to settle things, once and for all."

Steve nodded.

"What's that?" Peter asked, curiously.

"Who's your favorite Avenger?"

The boy looked between the two of them, both watching him, expectantly.

"And you don't have to say Ironman just because he gives you an allowance," Steve reminded him.

"But you don't need to say Captain America just because he's _old_. He'll understand."

"You guys can't make him choose between you," Pepper told them, sternly.

"I don't have to," Peter assured her, with a smile. "Everyone knows Natasha is my favorite Avenger, after all."

Romanoff crowed, doing a little jig in her chair before leaning over and kissing Peter, who smiled at her cheerfulness.

"What?" Both men looked annoyed at that. "Why?"

"She's my self-defense teacher," he pointed out. "If I gave any other answer, I'd find myself flat on my back next time we spar."

"Good answer," Steve said, grudgingly.

"Huh. I guess."

Stark didn't necessarily agree, but he nodded.

"Besides," Peter added, looking over at her with a smile. "She's sexier than both of you – _and_ Clint – all rolled into one."

Proving, again, that he wasn't two, anymore. Or maybe confirming that the little boob man was still there inside him, lurking.


	45. Chapter 45

The barbeque was a lot of fun. Not just for Peter, but for the others, as well. It was a break in their week, of course, and basically a vacation day, since no one was expected to get anything done. It was also a chance to allow everyone access to Peter, to assure themselves that he was, indeed, okay and fully restored to them.

Even Strange had a good time and didn't roll his eyes too often at the idea of being at yet another Avenger barbeque. Of course, he was one of the guests of honor, with Wong – and _Peter_ – so politeness dictated that when someone would come up to him and ask if he was having a good time, he say yes. In this instance, though, he _was_. Relief at having Peter restored to him – _them_ – was enough to make him still feel almost giddy every time he thought about just how close it had been, and he found himself sitting close to the boy every chance he got.

Despite his proclamation that he felt fine, the boy wasn't allowed to be too active, just yet. Strange suggested they not allow anything strenuous, and as such, he didn't play football with the group of men and women who came looking for him later on as the afternoon progressed. He didn't argue, or even grumble – this time. He was content to sit at the table with Strange and Wong, the cloak wrapped around his shoulders crooning cheerfully into his mind, while the others rotated in and out as to who was sitting with them, depending on the activities going on around them.

Not surprisingly, Tony and Pepper spent a lot of time at that table, as well. They didn't necessarily monopolize the boy; as a matter of fact, Tony spent more time talking to Stephen than he did Peter, but there was no doubt that both were always aware of him, and where he was in relation to themselves, because every now and then Pepper would reach without looking and take Peter's hand, and Tony's hand never failed to find the boy's shoulder when he wanted to touch him.

In the course of the day the others would come by and sit for a while – especially Natasha, who had two reasons to do so – but they all had all the time they needed and plenty of opportunity to be with him. Even Wanda Maximoff stopped by to check on him, and to pass along greetings from Vision, who had known something of what was happening when the spell was being cast, but hadn't dared get close because of Peter's sensitivity to the stone he carried.

Wong, of course, had started in on the questions almost immediately.

"You felt all of the stones on the Astral plane?"

The boy shrugged.

"I don't know about all of them, but I felt more than the two I was connecting with." He shrugged, trying to think back on the time that he was there, just floating and being. "I think it was like they all wanted to check me out, or something."

"Did the Time stone connect as well?" Wong asked him, infatuated by the conversation he was having with the boy.

"I'm not sure," Peter admitted. "I recognized the Mind stone because it's been in my head so long I know it, by now, and the Soul stone because of the nature of the connection it had with me. The others were different – like they were far away."

"They probably didn't bother to introduce themselves," Strange added, amused.

"But the Mind stone could have introduced each," Wong pointed out.

"I think it _did_," Peter agreed. "Not, _hey Peter, this is my good buddy the Time stone_… but it was kind of a buffer between my mind and the others. Like it was trying to make sure they didn't try to connect with me the way it does."

"Interesting."

Clint looked at Natasha. Both had been listening to the conversation.

"Any idea what they're talking about?"

"Not really."

Clint took over the conversation not long after that. He'd gotten all of his favorite pictures that he and the others had taken with _toddler_ Peter, and was trying to get them to recreate them with sixteen-year-old Peter, who was having none of it. Not surprising, considering he was wearing a lot of toddler clothing with Ironman and Captain America themes – as well as the occasional Incredible Hulk and Thor outfit.

"Do you have any idea how much crap I'd get if the people at school saw them?" he asked Clint.

"No one will see them," the archer assured him. "It'd just be for around here. The only kids from your school that come here are MJ and Ned – and you're going to tell them what happened, right?"

"No. And no, I'm not going to dress up like a little kid and sit on Pepper's lap."

"Come on, Peter. It'll be awesome."

"Then _you_ do it."

"It's not the same." He flipped through the camera on his phone. "Do one with _me_, then."

The one he pulled up was just Peter in Clint's arms, both smiling at the person taking the photo.

"No. I'm wearing bootie pajamas."

Clint wasn't ready to give up. He turned to the one person he knew could talk even the most reluctant teen into doing what he wanted.

"Nat. Help me out, here."

She'd been sitting next to Stephen, amused by the conversation and not at all surprised by Peter's refusal.

"Oh, no. I'm his _favorite Avenger_. I'm not going to ruin that title talking him into doing something like that."

"Peter… Come on. You do it, and I'll owe you."

"There isn't enough in the world for you to owe me." He was getting worn down by the pleading, though, and knew if Clint kept it up, he would eventually tell him yes, just to make him stop asking. What was worse, _Clint_ knew it, too, which was why he was nagging. Peter saw Nick walk out toward the volleyball net and saw his salvation. "I'll tell you what; you get _Nick_ to do it, and I'll do any recreation you want."

The archer's eyes lit up, although everyone else rolled their eyes, well aware what kind of reception that request would bring about.

"Really?"

"Yup. Today only, though."

Clint got up and headed over to Fury, and Natasha smiled.

"Smooth."

Peter nodded, pretty impressed with himself.

"Right?"

They watched as Clint approached Fury, and said something, which made the former director look over at the table Peter was sitting at. Then he said something to Clint, who was talking pretty fast, considering all the gesturing that was going on. A moment later, Fury walked over to the table, with a smug looking Clint Barton walking beside him.

"Mr. Barton here tells me that he wants a recreation photo. I'd like to see it."

Peter stared at him, but Clint jumped forward.

"Pepper? Can I see your phone?" She handed it over, just as surprised as everyone else at the table, and Clint flipped through her camera, finally stopping on a photo and showing it to Fury. "_This_ one."

The director frowned, and Peter stood up to look. It was a picture of Nick holding toddler Peter in his arms, the boy wearing a pair of pull up jeans and a white t-shirt. They weren't looking at the camera; Peter was looking at Nick, and Fury was tapping him on the nose.

"I do this," Fury said to Clint. "And I get a copy?"

"Yeah. Of _course_."

"It's okay, Nick," Peter told him, quickly. "You-"

"Done. Go get a white t-shirt on, Peter."

Fury, of course, was wearing the same sort of uniform now that that he'd been wearing in the picture.

"But…"

An instant later, the blue t-shirt that Peter had been wearing was suddenly turned brilliant white, and the boy looked over at Strange with a scowl.

"Don't look at me," he said, pointing at Wong, who smirked. "I happen to know there are photos I don't want recreated."

"I want a copy of all of them," the magician said.

Peter rolled his eyes and a moment later to everyone's amusement, found himself being held by Fury, who complained the boy weighed a lot more than he had, and he was going to need a chiropractor before the day was done.

"Look at me, Peter," Fury ordered, and tapped Peter's nose when he complied.

Then he immediately put him down. Peter sat back down at the table, and everyone gathered to compare the two pictures.

"Oh, my goodness," Pepper said. "That's _adorable_."

"Because I am an adorable fellow, Miss Potts," Nick pointed out. He turned to Barton. "I expect them both in my office tomorrow."

"I'll take care of it."

Fury walked away, and Peter sat down and buried his head in his arms. Clint wasn't done with him, though.

"Come on, Peter. A deal is a deal. Now for some of the _really_ good pictures…"

OOOOOOO

By the time the sun was beginning to set, the participants had eaten most everything that had been put out for them and a lot more alcohol had been consumed than was usual for a mid-week barbeque. The weather had cooperated, but it was beginning to be chilly out. People were beginning to call it a day, and were saying their goodnights to each other.

"You look tired," Stephen said to Peter, who was leaning at a precarious angle in his chair.

"I am."

"So am I," the doctor admitted. "Don't be offended if you don't see me for a few days, alright? I'm going to sleep for at least that long."

"You have to come get the pictures," Wong told him, smiling.

Both Peter and Strange rolled their eyes. Each recreation Clint had talked the participants into doing had required Peter to be wearing a specific outfit that obviously wouldn't fit the teen. Wong had solved it simply by making a gesture. Suddenly Peter would be in the needed outfit – which was usually an Ironman or Captain America outfit – and many with attached feet.

Strange had been amused until Natasha pointed out the photo she wanted, and it had included him, holding Peter the night he'd wanted the ice cream and Stephen had folded. Even worse, Natasha had asked them both to recreate Peter sobbing into the magician's chest and Strange rolling his eyes.

Neither had been able to refuse, and the picture had turned out exactly like she'd wanted. Of course.

"I'll get them, eventually," Strange assured him.

There was no doubt Natasha would have them ready as soon as possible.

"Thanks for coming," Tony said, smiling at the two magicians. He knew they were still tired, and didn't want to keep them from their rest, but he'd enjoyed getting a chance to thank them for what they'd done. "See you for brunch, Sunday?"

"Sounds good." Strange turned to Peter, and pulled him a little to the side. "We still need to discuss the bachelor party, don't forget."

"Yeah. Sounds good."

The doctor collected his cloak and said a quick goodbye to Natasha, and then he and Wong vanished.

"You alright?" Tony asked Peter.

"Yeah. I'm going to gather the tattered remains of my dignity and go to bed."

Pepper smiled.

"It wasn't so bad. They're _adorable_."

"And hilarious," Bruce added.

Peter shook his head, and Natasha tucked her arm through his.

"I'll walk with you."

"Okay."

They said goodnight to the others, and walked quietly through the corridors to their quarters.

"Are you going to be alright by yourself?" she asked him when they reached her door.

"Normally I'd say yes," Peter told her, leaning into her and silently asking her to hold him. Which she did, willingly. "I have to admit, though, the little guy is begging me to stick with you and cuddle."

She pulled away, her eyes meeting his with a smile.

"You can _feel_ him, still?"

"Yeah. Sometimes. Usually it's something like now, when there's a lot of emotion involved. I love you, you know that."

"Yeah."

"_He_ does, too. Which only makes sense, I guess, since he's me. Only he's more demanding about it and doesn't care if it's bedtime and everyone is tired."

"You want to go to bed, but _he_ wants to be held?" she hazarded.

"Right."

"So, which one wins?"

"Tonight? _He_ does, if you're willing. Tomorrow night? Well… Doctor Strange said he'll fade more and more as time goes by."

"I hope he doesn't fade, completely," Romanoff admitted, hugging Peter, tightly. "Go get ready for bed and come back when you're done."

Peter smiled.

"Thanks, Natasha."

He headed for his room, and Natasha watched him disappear and then went to get changed.

And to find that binky, just in case.


	46. Chapter 46

Peter woke much later, startling himself – _and_ Natasha – awake with a gasp. Her arms tightened on him, automatically, even before she was awake enough to murmur gently to him.

"Shhh…"

He opened his eyes, but held still, trying to figure out what had woken him. There didn't seem to be anything wrong; he was still in her arms, with his cheek in its regular spot against her collarbone. He wasn't holding her, his arms were tucked between them, his hands in his armpits where he'd put them before going to sleep, earlier, once he realized that the little guy was a grabber and had wanted his hands to be on Natasha. In places that made Peter blush. It was one thing for a _toddler_ to be grabby like that – it might even be considered _cute_ – but a sixteen-year-old would find himself sent packing back to his own bed for sure if he tried that, and deservedly so.

"You okay, baby?"

She hadn't opened her eyes, but she knew he was awake, simply by how tense he suddenly was.

"Yeah."

"Bad dream?"

It was a good guess. She'd have been surprised if he didn't have a few of them. He'd been adorable as a toddler, but it still had to be messing with his head in many ways.

"I'm not sure," Peter murmured. "I'm feeling restless, suddenly."

"Something is _wrong_ restless?" she asked, more awake, now. "Or the toddler in you wants to be awake at two in the morning restless?"

"I think it's _him_." Peter felt guilty for waking her. "I'll go take a walk or something and try to work it out. I'm sorry I woke you."

"I'm not awake," she assured him. "I'm _sleep chatting_." Romanoff tightened her grip on him for just a moment and brushed a kiss against his cheek before letting him go. "Come back when you're ready," she told him. "Otherwise you'll keep me awake, worrying."

"Okay."

He slid effortlessly out of her bed, feeling that other part of him rejecting the idea of leaving her side when all the comfort he needed had been right there for the taking. Peter shook his head, wondering if he'd really been like that when he was little, or if it was some crazy teen hormone thing. He pulled her blankets up around her and let himself out of her quarters and went to his own for a moment to get some socks on since the floor was cold.

"Karen? Let Friday know I'm not sleepwalking, okay?"

Just in case Tony had something set up with his AI to keep tabs on him during the night.

"_Yup."_

He had no intention of going outside, though – and certainly wasn't going to go for a swim alone in the middle of the night. Instead, he went to the lounge and was surprised to find that it wasn't empty. Tony was sitting at the table in the corner, next to the blanket that had all the toddler toys on it. There was a drink in front of him, but it wasn't touched, and he looked up, surprised, when Peter joined him.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, suddenly looking a little concerned.

Peter shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep all of the sudden. I think the little guy is restless."

Stark looked at his watch and smiled.

"Yeah. That's about right. I fished him out of the toilet about this time of night – and off the ceiling. Must be a toddler thing."

"What are _you_ doing up?" Peter asked.

"Same thing. I've almost become used to being up right about now, looking to fix whatever needed taken care of. I didn't want to wake Pepper, so I thought I'd come here, instead. See if I can get sleepy, again."

"You miss him?" Peter asked, curiously.

"Not really," Tony said, honestly. "Don't get me wrong; he was _adorable_, and more demanding with his affection than you are – always wanting to be picked up and cuddled close. He was _you_, so I loved him like I love you – without reservation. But I'd hold him and worry about _you_. If you were okay, or if you were in there and what you were thinking, that kind of thing."

"I wasn't. _In there_, I mean."

"I know that, now. But I could see you looking at me when he'd look up at me."

"Yeah. I can see that in some of the pictures I've seen. It makes sense, right?"

"Yeah." Tony smiled, and reached out and put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "I guess I _will_ miss being called _daddy_. We're pretty much past that stage, now, you and I."

That made Peter grin.

"Probably."

"Ah well, we'll wait for the grandkids. Then we'll get those demanding two am wakeup calls, again – only _you'll_ have to deal with them, not me."

"Unless you're babysitting," Peter pointed out.

"True."

"I wouldn't hold my breath, though," the boy warned. "Grandkids are probably pretty far off, yet."

"No rush," Stark assured him. "Believe me. We'd just as leave you wait until you're settled – and thirty or so."

"You don't think you and Pepper might have a kid?" he asked, curiously. "I mean, you're not _that_ old."

"I'm not _old_, at all," Tony told him, pretending to take a swipe at him, amused. "I don't think so, though, Peter. We're pretty happy the way things are. We're getting married, soon, and we have each other, and we have _you_. If one were to come along, then okay, but we're not going to actively try for one."

"Too bad," Peter said, smiling. "You're pretty good at the dad thing."

"Think so?"

"The little guy doesn't have any complaints."

"Do you still feel him?"

"I can. He's a bit of a nuisance, right now, though."

"Oh?" Tony looked curious. "How so?"

"I found myself in Natasha's bed and had to force myself to keep my hands where they belonged." He blushed. "She's sexy, you know, but I've never made a grab for her in all the times that I've been close to her. I've never even wanted to. But the little guy? It's what he's focused on. I think I'll have to shy clear of her a bit until he fades out a bit more."

Stark laughed.

"It's not just Natasha – although I witnessed one of those grabs at her, first hand – and not just with the _hand_, either. I think it was breasts, in general, because he had a go at _Pepper_, too."

"Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah. Clint said it was a boy thing and completely normal. Don't tell her I told you, okay? She'll _kill_ me."

Peter smiled, and shook his head.

"I'm so embarrassed."

"You _shouldn't_ be," Tony assured him. "It just means you – _he_ – has good taste."

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts, but Tony finally downed his drink and set the glass aside, realizing that Peter would sit up with him all night if he thought he needed the company. As far as Stark was concerned, the boy needed to go back to bed and get some more sleep.

"I'm going back to bed," he said, standing up. "You should do the same, all right?"

"Yeah. I will."

He reached out and caught his hand, though, before he could turn toward the door. Stark wondered if that grab had been Peter, or the little guy, and decided it didn't matter. He pulled the boy to his feet and put his arms around him, holding him closely, and feeling Peter tuck his face against his neck.

"I love you, Peter," he reminded the boy.

"I love you, too. _Daddy_."

Stark smiled. Crazy kid. Always trying to find a new way to make the waterworks start up. He held him for a long time. He didn't have a choice, really, since it took a few minutes to clear the lump out of his throat. Finally, he kissed his cheek and pulled away, looking at the boy who meant so much to him.

"Go to bed, young man. And stay out of the _toilet_."

"Yes, sir."

OOOOOO

She roused, briefly, when he rejoined her, tucking himself against her side with a sleepy sigh.

"You okay, baby?" Romanoff asked, her hand coming to his cheek without even opening her eyes.

"Yeah." His head found her collarbone and his eyes closed, almost immediately. He was so tired. "You?"

"I'm fine. Go to sleep."

She tucked the blankets up around them and he settled, sleepily beside her. Then stilled. Natasha was awake a little longer, her senses taking in the night, making sure that everything was as it was supposed to be, her instincts making sure that not only was she safe, but so was the boy sleeping in her arms. Eventually, she drifted off, only vaguely aware that he was shifting positions beside her, moving her shirt.

Her eyes flew open and she looked down, realizing that the toddler taken matters into his own hands while Peter was asleep. Well, not just _hands_ – she could attest to that, obviously. Natasha rolled her eyes, more amused than anything. She slid her hand down to release herself and heard a soft murmur of content coming from the sleeping form beside her. With a resigned sigh, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

He was worth it.


	47. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Okay… I know that I said May's birthday party was the most insane party ever, but this has absolutely eclipsed it."

Peter grinned at Ned, and then frowned.

"Your bowtie is crooked."

"Because Thor just let me try lifting his hammer."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You should give it a try. He said if I could, I'd rule Asgard."

"If I'm _worthy_."

"There is _that_," his friend conceded. Ned grinned, holding up his phone and showing off a picture. "_Elon Musk_ tried, too. He isn't worthy, either."

Peter grinned, and looked around. As much as he had enjoyed May's birthday party – and it would always be a happy memory of her – he had to admit that Ned was right about this party being epic.

Of course, it was _Tony Stark's_ bachelor party. It _had_ to be epic. Especially when the planning was done by Dr. Strange who had all the magic he needed to make everything just right, and had consulted with Pepper to make sure it would be enjoyable for all the attendees – even Ned and Peter, who were easily the youngest there, and the only two who couldn't legally drink.

They'd decided on a Casino Royale theme, with all of the attendees in formal tuxedos and a few different gambling tables set up. The people at the party were a broad mixture of the richest people in not only the United States, but also in the world, some who were famous – and well as _wealthy_ – some were famous athletes or movie stars and others who were legendary for completely different reasons. Thor and Steve Rogers being two prime examples of that category.

Thor was the only one not wearing a tuxedo, although he had taken a turn around the card tables with Steve and Wong, who had explained the games to him. The chips were worth actual money – and there was a _lot_ of money flowing in and out of the house bank – but it was all going to charity, so it was fine with the attendees when they didn't win a hand, and it kept things from getting too competitive. Especially if the men playing cards happened to be rivals in a business or an industry.

There was an open bar that was well attended – and being frequented by almost everyone (Ned and Peter excluded, of course) – so as the evening progressed, the voices got louder, and the party got more entertaining for the two teenagers.

"Have you seen Tony?" Peter asked his friend, looking around and feeling a little bit of a thrill go through him when Bill Gates walked by as he asked, and quietly pointed back the way that he'd come, smirking.

Ned grinned, exchanging a look with Peter and then went after the software giant, phone at the ready. Peter shook his head and turned the direction he'd been pointed out.

The venue was a quiet, nondescript farmhouse about 30 miles south of the compound. From the outside there was very little indication of what was going on inside. The huge barn had been converted for the evening into a giant parking garage for all of the limousines and high-end automobiles the guests had used to get there, and the security was tight, keeping any and all press away. The house itself was composed of one huge formal area – which was the gaming floor for the night – and a few separate back rooms, where smaller groups of attendees could gather once they were tired of winning or losing a fortune.

More alcohol was being served there by attentive caterers and bar crews, as well as snacks and refreshments of all kinds that were being passed around all areas of the farmhouse – including the barn, so those drivers who weren't inside enjoying the party could also have something to eat while they waited for the party to wind down and could drive their people home.

Peter found Tony sitting at a large, round table with Strange, Clint, Happy and Wong. All of them were nursing drinks – and while the boy hadn't exactly been keeping track, he could tell from their various expressions that the ones they had now were nowhere close to the first ones of the evening.

"Peter!" Tony waved the boy over to him, grinning. "Where have you been?"

"Just wandering around, staying out of trouble."

"_Someone_ has to," Clint agreed, his normally sharp gaze looking just a little out of focus. "Would you believe I caught Wong playing Hold Em?"

"Nothing wrong with that," the magician pointed out.

"With _five_ aces?" Barton asked, raising an eyebrow. "If you're going to cheat, you might try a little more subtlety, next time."

Strange snickered, drawing everyone's attention.

"What?" Tony asked, curiously.

"I might have spiked the champagne."

"It's already alcoholic," Peter pointed out. "What did you spike it with?"

"Moonshine."

Peter shook his head, beyond amused. They were so drunk!

"Maybe it's time to head home?"

He was the designated driver for Tony, Clint, Bruce and Strange – having been assigned to them specifically to keep them all out of trouble. Steve – who couldn't get drunk no matter how much _spiking_ was going on – was responsible for getting Happy, Wong and Ned home, since Peter couldn't drive legally into the city to drop Ned, and Strange was going to overnight at the compound. Steve was tasked with deciding at the end of the night whether Wong should come home with him, or if he was sober enough to be able to guard the sanctum.

"Time to leave _this_ party," Wong agreed, looking at Strange. "The _other one_ is ready, right?"

"Yes."

"What other one?" Peter asked, curiously, watching as the two magicians got to their feet and pulled an unresisting Tony up as well.

"It's a _secret_," Wong told him, giggling. "Come on. _You_ probably should drive."

"Are we coming back here?"

"No," Strange said, shaking Clint's shoulder with one hand and Happy's with the other. "Come on, guys. You're going to _love_ this."

"I need to go get Steve," Peter told him – _them_ – figuring someone a little older than he was – and a lot more sober than _they_ were – needed to make that decision. "You guys wait right here."

Tony nodded, pointing to the spot he was standing on, and then snickered, too.

"Right here, Stephen," he repeated.

When Peter left to find Rogers, all five of them were trying to stand in the same spot on the floor.

OOOOOO

Pepper and Natasha were both waiting by Peter's Pontiac when the cars pulled into the garage. Peter parked the sedan he was driving next to where they were standing, and Steve, who was driving the other one, parked on the other side of the classic.

"Where have you been?" Pepper asked, curiously, when Peter opened his door. She stepped up and could see that Tony was slumped against the front, passenger side of the car, and Clint, Wong and Strange were all passed out in the back. "You said it wouldn't take that much time."

"I didn't think it would," the boy told them, putting his keys in his pocket. "Doctor Strange had another – more private party – set up as an after party surprise for Tony."

"Karaoke," Ned explained, getting out of the front of the car that Steve had been driving. His once immaculate tuxedo was rumpled and stained, and the boy looked both amused and dog-tired. "At a _bar_."

"How did you two get into a _bar_?" Pepper asked, frowning.

"Wong made us IDs," Peter said, holding his up and handing it to her. "We didn't drink," he added quickly. "But Steve didn't show up until later, and these guys were going to go in with or without us."

"And Tony was _okay_ with that?" Romanoff asked, surprised, walking over and looking through the window at the men in the car – none of whom had even moved, yet.

"They _all_ were, by then," Peter confirmed, with a roll of his eyes and a wry smile. "They were pretty lit by the time we left the bachelor party."

"Doctor Strange spiked the champagne," Ned explained, opening the back door and catching Happy before he could fall out of the car.

"They were singing _Piano Man_ when I finally caught up with them," Steve said, looking sober, but exhausted. As well he should be, trying to corral so many drunks in one night. "We figured it was probably safer to just bring them all here and put them to bed – and sort them out in the morning."

Romanoff smiled, taking in the sight of all the disheveled men piled into the two cars.

"There are going to be a lot of hangovers and red eyes in the morning," she predicted. "I hope it was worth it."

"I have pictures _and_ videos," Ned assured her – _and_ Pepper.

"Yeah, me too," Peter said. "We'd better get them to their beds."

"I'll take Stephen and Wong," Natasha said. "Wong can have the room next to Stephen's. I'll come back and help you with the others."

"We've got them," Pepper assured her, shaking her head, amazed. Tony hadn't planned on drinking at all, he'd told her. Obviously that had changed somewhere during the evening – most likely with some magical help, if nothing else. "Ned? Give her a hand, would you?"

They watched as passengers started being sorted out, and Ned slid his shoulder under Wong, who was somewhat awake, but still singing under his breath as the boy eased him into a more upright position. Natasha carefully collected her drunken sorcerer supreme and the four left the garage. While that was happening, Happy had woken on his own, looked around, dazedly, and had mumbled something about going to bed.

"I'll take Bruce," Peter offered.

"I'll take him," Steve said. "Just in case."

The other guy had yet to make an appearance in the compound, but Banner hadn't been drunk before, as far as Steve knew. If something happened while Bruce wasn't completely coherent, Steve would rather he was the one who dealt with him, than Peter – despite the boy's strength.

Pepper stepped up to the car door Tony was leaning against while Peter woke Clint and managed to pull him to his feet.

"We're home?" Barton asked, squinting as he looked around the garage, leaning heavily on Peter's shoulder.

"Yeah." Peter leaned him against the sedan and helped Pepper get Tony's door open without spilling him onto the garage flooring. "You got him?"

"Yes."

"Peter?" Tony opened his eyes just long enough to look around before closing them and pressing his face into Pepper's collarbone.

"Yeah, Tony," the boy replied, shutting the door and reaching for Barton, who was beginning to slide down the side of the car.

"Where are we?"

The boy rolled his eyes, meeting Pepper's amused look with his own.

"We're home. Pepper's going to put you to bed."

"Good idea."

He moved his head, though, and rested his chin on her shoulder so he could open his eyes and look at her and Peter.

Barton tapped the boy's shoulder.

"I want _ice cream_, Peter."

Tony's face lit up, too.

"Yes. _Ice cream_!"

Pepper just shook her head.

"Come on, sweetheart. We'll put them to bed and then I want to see these videos. Tell me you have some of them singing Karaoke?"

"Of course."

THE END

_A/N: Okay, toddler Peter is fixed, more or less, and it was time to wrap the story up – although I love writing fluff like that, and Peter as a toddler was so much fun. Next up, the wedding and maybe some Wakandan adventures to lead up to End Game. Who knows, maybe I'll find a place for Captain Marvel in my AU? Let me know what you thought! (and the leg is healing well for those who have been asking – thank you)._


End file.
